


Possession

by virtualpersonal



Category: Supernatural, Twilight (Movies)
Genre: Angst, Bondage, Dean Winchester - Freeform, Dean wants it bad but Sam is afraid to hurt him, Desire, Drama, Humor, Hunter Dean, Hurt Dean, Hurt Sam, Jealous Sam, M/M, Possessive Sam, Romance, Sexual Frustration, Sexual Tension, Sexy Times, Teen Dean, Vampire Sam, Wincest - Freeform, brash dean, cross over worlds, high school Dean, obsessed sam, one attempted rape scene not by either of the boys, sam and dean are not brothers, sam cullen - Freeform, spn crossover twilight
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-14
Updated: 2016-05-14
Packaged: 2018-06-08 11:13:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 33
Words: 322,990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6852364
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/virtualpersonal/pseuds/virtualpersonal
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For years, vampire Sam (Cullen) has been held and tortured, death denied to him because he's a vampire. When Dean Winchester saves him and Sam gets a whiff of Dean's intoxicating scent, a new sort of torture ensues. He could just end it, end Dean's life and find peace, but their history as well as feelings that run deeper than Dean could ever understand, make that an impossible solution. How far will Sam allow the human brat of a teenager to push him before all hell explodes? Setting: Partly in Forks.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> [](http://tinypic.com)
> 
> A million thanks to shazamy for making this wonderful manip using the incredible manip of the boys made by Edanna.
> 
> Co-written with Fetish

[Five years ago]

 

The light glared off the pale body on the table. It belonged to what seemed to be a tall youth with dark hair. Sam's inky black eyes moved from one figure to the other, as he lay there, dreading what was to come next, fear coiling tight in his belly and making his chest ache. 

"Is he secure?" Angelo asked, as he selected a scalpel. "I don't want a repeat of what happened last time."  
As if to test that theory, Sam struggled against the chains holding him, hands curling into tight fists as he tried to break free, but nothing, he was bound and helpless and at the mercy of these two loons, God help him. 

Paul went around the operating table and pulled on the strangely glowing chains that bound the subject to the table. They were made of one of the few materials known to be capable of holding a vampire, at least in a weight that was reasonable and usable. "He can't move."

"Alright. Let's see.... we need liver tissue and a piece of intestine. It shouldn't take too long." He ignored the whimpering from the table, and looked down under it at the bucket filled with blood drained from the vampire earlier, to make sure he stayed docile, and for its valuable properties. "Redirect the light." 

Sam's gaze shot to the one holding the scalpel. He bit his lip, tasted his own blood, fear and panic gripping him as he struggled harder. _No. No. No!_ Sam mentally screamed, eyes wide, as he shook his head slightly. 

When Paul did as he asked, Angelo pushed the scalpel, made of the same material as the magic enhanced metal chains, into the vampire's skin, cutting through flesh and muscle until he had the abdominal cavity open to view. 

Sam tried not to scream, tried not to make a sound, he really did. He didn't want to give these bastards the satisfaction of knowing how badly they were hurting him, but it didn't take long before his lips parted in a pain filled gasp, eyes wide, before he squeezed them closed, and a scream tore from his throat. Perhaps from the very depths of his soul. 

Somewhere outside, birds flew and scattered at the sound of the vampire’s anguished, pain-filled screams.

The screams coming from the vampire started to irritate him. "Gag the bastard," Angelo ordered, moving the subject’s internal organs roughly aside as he made his way to the liver. "I want this over as soon as possible, I have a date tonight." He needed to go home and wash the stink of this underground facility off him within two hours, and he had no intention of staying late tonight. 

"Right." Paul took a tattered cloth and loomed over the youth. "Try to bite me, and I'll remove every one of your teeth. Again." He secured the bloodied and rough cloth over the vampire's mouth, pulling it as tight as he could. "Not so big and mighty now, Mr. Vampire," he said jamming his fist into the youth's jaw. 

Sam's eyes had slowly opened, tears having gathered in them, now slowly streaming from the corners down the sides of his face, wetting his matted hair as he looked up at the bastard grinning over him. His teeth ached, his blood, what was left, pounded in his temples, pain ... in great heated waves... flowed through his body, his breaths ragged and sloppy. Though Sam didn’t really need to breath at all, it was funny how the body thought itself human in times like this. The gag was shoved into his mouth and Sam whimpered against it. The punch wasn't expected, but he wasn't all that surprised either. His head snapping to the side, as he once again tasted his own blood. 

"Stop playing around, idiot." Angelo shook his head, and single-mindedly continued his work to the sound of whimpers still escaping through the gag.

* * *

[Present day ] 

It was night, darkness filled the underground facility. Darkness and silence. The only sound was that of the metal scraping of chains against the cement floor every time Sam tried to move, to get more comfortable. He had grown used to laying on the cold dirty cement floor inside the ‘cage’ they kept him in, but tonight, he was restless. 

His teeth ached, it was a continuous feeling, one that never seemed to leave him since the day he had been captured for the second time in his life. He wasn't sure exactly how long he had been here now. Weeks? Months? Years? Surely it couldn't have been that many years... could it? 

He thought of the family that had adopted him, taken him in. Thought of _her_ , of Alice, and a small smile pulled at the corner of the vampire's mouth. So much like Abigail, she was, like his baby sister. He missed them, all of them, every one of the Cullens so much, but he had given up on ever seeing them again, on escaping. Pain, fear, misery, and weakness were his only companions now. 

A lone rat scurried by and Sam quickly snatched it up off the floor, sinking his teeth into the wiggling rodent. Within seconds it was nothing but a dry carcass, though it was nowhere near enough to quench his hunger, to ease the pain that wracked his body. 

The sound of shuffling feet had Sam's muscles tensing. No, they couldn't be back. Not already. Not for more. _Please, no._ He tried to scoot farther into the darkened corner of his cell, not that it would do any good, but then sometimes things didn't have to make complete and total sense now did they?

*

Holding the pistol with two hands in front of him, Dean pushed the heavy door open and found himself staring into a dimly lit hallway. This area of the facility was separate from the rest, and he saw nothing to indicate why. But the doors were thicker here, and it was absolutely silent, like there was sound-proofing. What the fuck?

It was worse than anything he'd imagined when he'd first started to follow the story about people disappearing and being found tossed in parks or hotel lobbies with missing organs and even limbs. Some of them had died of infection. All of them remembered nothing but the smell of chloroform, and the sound of shouting.

The stories came from all over, but Dean had pieced some of the stuff together, and it all lead to Kentucky... at least his gut had told him that. He'd left school mid-semester, and gone for it. It was nothing new... the school would give him some bullshit, but they'd let him back in if he caught up on school work. Ever since dad had ... since he'd been killed, they'd been a little easier on him over his absences.

Alright, so he'd found this place and freed four people, one looked like she was on the verge of death since a butcher had sewn up her stomach. But who else was here? He was gonna find out. 

Taking a few more steps down the hall, he used his foot to open a door. It squeaked. He looked inside, almost gagging at the scent of blood. The room was empty, but it was another one of those operating theaters. What the fuck were these people doing? If that one victim hadn't been close to dying, he might not have called the cops. He'd have told the others to beat it and waited for the things who were running this place.

Sam lay listening to the sounds, listened as the sound of a beating heart drew close. Not two of them, only one. Which of them had come back? Did he really want to know? 

But then, as he listened, the beat was all wrong for it to be one of the two who had always come for him, always inflicted pain, taken from him and not cared how badly they were hurting him. Their hearts beat slow, steady, as if this hell was nothing to them, but this heart was beating fast. Like it's owner was agitated, scared maybe. Who...? 

And then he caught the scent. Sam's eyes widened as he breathed in the familiar scent. _No, no, they couldn't have taken him. He was just a kid, surely even these heartless, cruel bastards wouldn't do this to a kid... Would they?_

Sam started tugging on the chains that held him, fear for the one who's scent he smelled, pushing him to try, to try for an escape he had given up on. He had to help him, had to get him out of there.

Dean's head jerked, his gun moving higher and pointing toward the sound. With his back close to the wall, he headed toward the last door, but made sure the others were free of people. He didn't want to leave anyone behind or have one of the monsters who ran this place behind him.

Reaching the door, he saw it was triple locked. What the fuck did they have here? He started to push levers, and draw deadbolts, wanting to find out what these people could be afraid of. 

Sam's head turned abruptly, inky black eyes staring at the door to his cell. The scent was stronger now. Surely they weren't bringing him _in here_!? No. Oh God, no. Sam knew he wouldn't be able to hold back, knew he would sink his fangs into the child, the child he had once protected... would drink him dry. His teeth ached, more than before, if it were possible, as he tried to scoot further away from the door, hiding his face against his own bicep, pressing his lips together tightly. Tried to breathe only his own scent, block out the other one that had always for some reason called to him. 

_Run! Run away! Go! Get free! Please!_

Throwing the last lock back, Dean cautiously pulled the door open. It was pitch black inside, and the sickening smell of blood struck him again. Pushing the door wider to allow the some of the light in the hallway to flood inside, he saw a switch and hit it. The fluorescent lights spat and flashed for a second, before staying on. 

Sam squeezed his eyes closed as the lights flickered on. If his heart had worked, it would be hammering in his chest right now. As it was, he was close to trembling. _Please, no. Go away. I don't want to hurt you._

Seeing the figure chained up and curled into himself in the corner of the room, as scared as the other victims, Dean put the safety on and shoved his gun under his belt, behind his back. "Hey, you alright? Help is coming," he said approaching and getting down next the half naked guy left tied up in this cold room. There were blood stains, old and new on the ground around him. "Let me see, are you hurt?" 

The voice was wrong, but the scent... Sam would know that scent anywhere. How...? Slowly, he turned his head, just enough so that he could see the man crouching beside him as he held his breath, tried not to breathe, tried with all his might to ignore his own body, his instincts to attack this guy, to pin him to the floor and drink his blood, to use him to quench his thirst, to rid his body of it's pain. 

Sam's dark eyes, rimmed in red and shining with unshed tears, took in the guy beside him, before he turned his head again, turning away. "Run away," he told him, his voice, soft and rough from misuse, from years of screaming in pain.

"Yeah. You're getting out of here," Dean tried not to show his reaction to the barely sewn together surgical cut that went from the guy's navel to his chest. He put a reassuring hand on his shoulder and raised his eyes. "I'm gonna get you out of these."  
Sam tensed as soon as the guy touched him. Slowly, Sam turned his head back to look at him, offering him a pleading look. _Please, just leave. Go._ How could he make him understand? 

The instant the guy'looked back and their eyes met, time stood still. Those eyes... that face... it couldn't be. It was so long ago, but Dean hadn't been able to forget, even when he tried so fucking hard. 

He remembered to breath, and took in a lungful of air. This guy just looked like _him_. That had to be it.

That's what he wanted to believe, but Dean’s gut told him no... this was him. Alright Winchester, this isn't the time. Pull your shit together. "I’m Dean." Dragging his gaze away, he reached up and started to work on the lock on the chain. Something about the chain looked familiar but his mind was too busy racing, making him think of possibilities that this was that same man. Well... teen. "What's your name?"

Sam took in the guys appearance, really took it in as he lay, not breathing, just looking at him with wide eyes, lips pressed so tightly together, it was no wonder that the line of his lips had turned white. His hands curled into fists as he fought against the hunger, the need to possess this guy, to take from him what he needed to survive, to heal.  
Dean. It was.... No, it couldn't be. That would mean he had been in here for... Oh God... five, six years? Sam turned away, shook his head, "Please, go," he told him. He’d tried to say the words louder, firmer, but after all these years, his voice was shot, and it merely came out in a hushed tone.

"It's alright. You're gonna go, we both are... right.... now," he said, pausing as he worked on the lock, then watched the chain drop to the ground. Putting an arm under the guy's he started to help him up. "Paramedics will be here in a few minutes, they'll fix you up. You're gonna be okay, all of you guys are gonna be okay." 

Sam gasped softly as he looked up at the chains. _Oh God... No, put them back, put them back. I don't what to hurt you._

Bearing the brunt of the boy's weight, he got him up, his expression darkening at the sight of the dirty hospital pajama pants. "You cold? Can you stand against the wall," he asked, already half shrugging out of his jacket. 

Sam leaned against the wall, teeth aching, blood pounding in his temples, Dean's scent so intoxicating, so close, so very close. And Sam was free. All he had to do was reach out and take that which his body screamed for. Sam drew in a shaky breath and shook his head, eyes focused on some point on the ceiling as he tried to fight to not hurt Dean. "No, I'm fine. Please... go... get out." Sam raised his head off the wall, eyes narrowing at Dean, "Now!" he all but screamed at him as his fingertips dug into the metal of the walls.

"Dude, calm down, I'm not gonna hurt you." Loosening his grip, he added, "I remember you."

Sam relaxed slightly, but only slightly. It _was_ him. Reaching a shaking hand out, Sam ran the tips of his fingers down the side of Dean's face. 

The sound of others, paramedics and police arriving at the underground facility filled Sam's ears and he quickly pulled his hand back as his head turned in that direction with a start. He pushed away from the wall, and rushed from the room, his movements a blur to the human eye, as he hurried down the hall and out a window, disappearing into the night.

"Hey... Hey!" Dean shouted, reaching the door and looking out. There was no sign of the guy, only the paramedics and cops coming in. Dean thought back to the last time he'd seen the guy... how he'd disappeared just like this. His heart sank. It wasn't a _he_ , it was an _it._

The next hour was a blur to Dean. He gave the law enforcement a fake name and bullshitted about having come to hike the hills when he'd seen the opening to the mines had been tampered with and got curious. While they were busy getting the victims into the ambulances, he disappeared.

*

For one week, Dean hung around, waiting on the people who had run the facility to show, but they never did. The police said it was some sort of ring selling organs, and yeah, they were probably right. But there was more to this than that, there had to be. But what?

If he was honest with himself, Dean would have admitted that part of the reason he stayed was to look for _him._ To scour the streets and the papers, to find out if anyone had seen or heard anything that could help him.

Years ago, he'd thought of the guy as a man. Now that he himself was a man, or close to, he saw the guy wasn't old at all. Under the grime and tear stains, he'd looked about his own age. But was that how he'd always looked? Dean didn't even want to think about him being supernatural. No. He'd dreamed about that guy so often. Protector. Guardian. Lover. No, just no.

Reaching for the beer next to the bed, he took a long swig. It had cost him double, seeing as he had to pay someone to get it for him, but it was worth it, he needed to take the edge off. Closing his eyes, he tried to remember the first time... he'd only been six then.

*

"Stay there, don't come out for anything boy, not unless I say so," John Winchester yelled at his son, forcing him to go into the dark cave and slapping his shoulder. "I'll be back for you. Let me see your gun," he looked down, gave his son a nod and pointed.

 _I wanna stay with you, dad. I don't want to..._ His dad's eyes were growing colder by the second as if he were disappointed. Dean nodded his head, "yes sir."

Turning, he walked into the darkness though the howling from outside was scaring the crap out of him. He was allowed to say crap. He wasn't allowed to say shit, but he did anyway. "Shit, shit, shit..." 

Finding the back of the cave, he pressed his back against it and hoped his dad would hunt that thing fast. _Don't let it get dad, please. Don't let it get dad._

The next few minutes were a blur. There were teeth, and claws, and they were sinking into him faster than he could pull the trigger. His dad was gonna kill him for not paying attention.

Dean forced his eyes open and felt the tears on his cheeks. The memory of pain slammed into him hard enough to have him crying again, but then he saw the tall man standing over him. The man’s arm was cut and his blood was dripping down, right onto Dean. Dean shivered, fear stopping the scream in his throat. And then the man was gone.

By the time his dad came for him, Dean hadn't figured out who's blood was all over him. Was it his own? He'd swear that creature had bitten him. Or was it that man's?

"Good work, son. That thing was bleeding by the time I got to it." John winchester made sure the blood on his son was the creatures, then he lifted him up into his arms. "You are one helluva fighter," he grinned and marched out of the cave. It wasn't the way he or Mary would have wanted, but it was the way it had to be. He was proud of his son, damned proud.

*

Dean blinked the images away, rolled over, and tried to get some sleep. In a few more days, he'd hit the road and go home to Forks. There was nothing more he could do here.

 

* * *

[1 week later]

 

Sam was laying on his settee in his room on the top floor of the Cullen home, in Forks, Washington State. Alice sat beside him, listening silently as he told her everything that had happened over the past five years, his hand gripping hers tightly as he spoke. 

"And then I saw him, Alice." 

Alice frowned and raised a perfect brow. "Saw who, Sam?" 

"Him. The boy I use to visit. The one I saved that night in the caves. I saw him, he was the one," Sam sighed, licked his lips and looked away, "he was the one who saved me from those men holding me." He looked back at her, a small sad smile pulling at his lips. "Karma, I guess, huh?" he shrugged slightly. 

Alice reached a hand out and with delicate long fingers pushed Sam's long bangs from his brow. "And yet you were able to not..." she didn't finish the sentence, she didn't have to. 

Sam looked down, not meeting her gaze, "I ran." he told her softly.

Alice nodded before pulling to her feet, slowly slipping her hand from his. "Well, I'm glad you're back now. And I'm glad you were able to..... run," she told him, then turned and stepped quietly out of the room, pulling his door closed behind her. 

Sam rolled onto his side, curling into a ball as he had done so many times before in his prison. His thoughts now were not on pain and salvation, but on a young boy, who he used to watch from outside his window, or from inside his room, on nights when his window was left open and Sam was feeling exceptionally brave. 

A small smile pulled at his lips as he thought of _his_ Dean.


	2. Chapter 2

So far today, school had already been a bitch. And now he had to face that asswipe, Mr. Wilson. Even before the physics teacher started to rant at him for having missed a month and a week of school, Dean had known it was coming. For the third time that day, he wondered why he didn't just drop out... just fucking tell them to go to hell. He was out there busting his ass to help people, and it always came back down to getting chewed out for it.

He took a deep breath, ready to tell the bastard to shove his class, but then his mother's soft voice echoed in his mind. She'd been big on school. He'd only been five when she went and died on him too... but he remembered her emphasis on school, and the picture frame for school pictures from Kindergarten to grade twelve. There was only one picture missing. One.

"Are you listening to me, Winchester. If you want to graduate, you will catch up on everything you missed. Everything." Mr. Wilson shoved a pile of work across the table. "And I don't have time to go back just for one student, so you'll be working with a tutor."

"Tutor?" A grin spread over Dean's face as he nodded toward the smartest girl in class, Sarah. She had some rack... he wouldn't mind spending some time with her, not at all. "I'm all yours, baby."

"Stop with the jokes. Your tutor is..."

"Ellen?" That wouldn't be too painful either.

"Sam Cullen."

"Cullen? Who the fuck are these Cullens I keep hearing about," he said, ignoring the teacher's coughing up a lung at his bad language.

Because of his high grades, Sam volunteered as a teachers aid, working after school with kids who needed help, who were slipping in their grades, who might not pass, graduate or who might just up and quit school all together. When he had arrived at school that morning, after his first class, he’d gone to his mailbox in the office and read the report about the student who was their latest concern. They feared he would either fail, not graduate, or just up and quit, as he seemed to have a pattern of leaving school for no real reason for long stretches, only to return again later, which was good, but it said nothing for the grades he was getting. 

Sam hadn't been too worried about it, knew he could help the kid, until he had read the name. _Dean Winchester._ If his heart had been beating, it would have stopped in that moment. He'd tried to get out of it, but there was no one that seemed to be able to take his place. 

Maybe, just maybe he was wrong. Maybe it wasn't _his_ Dean. Just _a_ Dean. At least he hoped so. Well, part of him did, another part, was excitedly awaiting the time for him to meet with this Dean Winchester, hoping, that maybe it really was him. That he would get to see him, spend time with him, talk to him... 

He stood at the door of Mr. Wilson's room, arms crossed over his chest, shoulder leaning against the door frame as he listened to Dean ask about 'The Cullens’. 

Sam smirked softly, his gaze staying lowered to the floor, head hanging. "One of 'these Cullens' is going to make sure you graduate, Mr. Winchester. Whether you like it or not," Sam answered him, his voice still just as soft as it had been that day in the cell, only stronger now.

Dean whirled around, his eyes locking onto the guy who practically filled up the door frame. "You."

There was laughter. And jokes about Dean's disappointment that his tutor wasn't a girl... everyone knew him too well.

Ignoring the chatter, Dean tried to get his thoughts in order. He wasn't imagining it, it was that guy. Sam, Sam Cullen, the teacher had said. A new family had moved into town while he'd been away, and he was one of them? His heart raced, but Dean told himself it was because he didn't believe in coincidences, something was up.

Sam pulled away from the door and walked across the room to take the papers from Mr. Wilson's desk, looking through them. His eyes still on the papers, though he stole a glance at Dean once or twice, Sam nodded. "We can do this. We can get you caught up... Dean." It was the first time he had ever said his name out loud and it seemed like every other sound for that moment had faded away. So that Sam's voice saying his name was the only thing that could be heard. 

Sam turned his head, hiding his immediate reaction to Dean's scent as he took a breath. His eyes darkened, his teeth ached. This was not going to go well. It had been foolish to think that it would. _Shit!_

Sam placed the papers back on the desk and turned toward the door, "I need to leave. I'll meet with you later, Dean.." With that Sam walked purposefully toward the door. He needed to get out of there. He obviously hadn't fed enough. He'd need to be sure he fed a LOT more in the coming days, if he was going to be stuck helping Dean with his studies.

There was no rational reason for the anger that rushed through Dean, first at that pep talk in front of everyone, then the disappearing act... again. He pointed at the now empty doorway. "He getting in trouble for that? Or does he have a pass to walk out just like that?" 

Shaking his head, Mr. Wilson nodded at the stack of work. "Take it, and go sit down."

Dean mentally cursed, grabbed the papers and went to sit. The rest of the class time was a blur. All he could think about was Sam Cullen. Those eyes. Mysteries on top of mysteries... dammit, how he hated unsolved mysteries. 

 

* 

 

Sam mentally cursed his brother's small car. A tiny silver Volvo was _not_ his idea of a good set of wheels, but Edward's car needed to be driven while he and Bella were gone to Canada, and this was as good a chance as any for him to give it a drive. Even if he was driving it into a rather shady neighborhood. 

Sam checked the paper sitting on the seat next to him for the address where Dean Winchester lived and sighed as he matched the information with that of the tiny run down house to his left. Pulling into the driveway, Sam parked the car and turned off the engine, reaching into the backseat for his backpack and laptop case. 

Pulling from the car and locking the doors behind him, Sam went to the front door, arranging the straps of first the back pack and then the laptop case, he lifted a fisted hand and knocked on the door. Well, here went nothing. He just hoped that the extra feeding he'd had before coming over was enough. Emmet had picked on him about gorging himself, but they all knew why he had done it. Vampire's weren't known to keep secrets, and as soon as he had told Alice, it seemed that his other brothers and sisters knew as well. Sam was tutoring Dean Winchester, _his_ Dean Winchester.

Hearing the door, Dean's head jerked up. "Aw fuck..." He swept his forearm across the dining room table that hadn't seen a plate on it in years, pushing the silver bullets and powder into a bag. Who the hell was it? He wasn't expecting anyone. Looking around, he put a curved knife he’d just sharpened away and crossing the room, tossed two handguns into a drawer. "Shit..." 

Sam raised a brow as he looked at the door. He could hear Dean moving around inside and cursing. What the hell was he doing? Sam took a step back and leaned backward slightly, trying to see into the window from where he stood on the porch, but quickly gave up when he heard Dean's feet come closer to the door. 

Sam cleared his throat and looked up expectantly. Okay, this was it. He'd know now if he could actually do this or not. He wondered how it was he used to be able to sneak into Dean's window when Dean was little and sit there in his room, watching him sleep. Sam wasn't sure what it was he had done differently. Fed more? Perhaps Dean's scent had not been as strong then? Or maybe it had to do with Sam's captivity? He was still learning new things about himself everyday due to that. Like his not liking to be touched anymore. It seemed that the only one who could touch him without him reacting badly was Alice. Sam sighed, and tried not to let his troubled thoughts show as the door creaked open.

Seeing who it was, Dean had second thoughts about releasing his hold on the butt of the gun behind his back, but he did. Clearing his throat, he stepped out. "This the part where you thank me for saving your ass and then tell me what the hell is going on?"

Sam froze for an instant, before licking his lips, golden hazel eyes looking straight into brilliant greens. "I'm...not sure what you're talking about." It was a lie and he knew it, but he couldn't talk about that, not now, not with _him_ and certainly not alone. "I'm just here to help you with school, remember?" Sam quirked a brow, one hand going to the side of his backpack and pressing it out slightly for Dean to see.

"You're not sure what I'm talking about? You don't remember that little pit you called home? Being chained up like an animal, all that blood, none of that is ringing a bell?" Dean demanded, fire practically shooting out of his eyes. "Don't remember me getting you the hell out of there? None of that?" 

Sam raised a hand and ran it through his hair as he looked away, his free hand curling into a fist. Finally he looked back at Dean and gave a short nod. "Yes. Thank you. I... I owe you one," he told him softly, even more softly than he normally spoke. "Now, how about that school work, huh?" He tried to change the subject before things got out of hand. At least standing outside on the porch helped because Dean's scent was not so concentrated, but with the way the conversation was heading, Sam wasn't so sure he wasn't going to have problems any second.

"You've got to be kidding me. You want to talk about school?" Dean stared at him. "Just who or what are you, Sam Cullen?" With Sam's semi-admission, some of the anger left him. 

Sam shook his head, "What do you want me to say, Dean? What do you mean, who or what am I? You know my name, Mr. Wilson took care of that." He crossed his arms over his chest, hands curled into tight fists as he felt his teeth begin to ache. "Maybe I should just go," he suggested, taking a step backward.

Dean’s eyes narrowed. There was no way Sam could have already recovered from the injuries Dean had witnessed in that pit. No way he could be well enough to walk straight, with no show of any pain at all. And how the hell had he moved so fast when he'd run away before the paramedics got to him?

"Maybe not." Dean whipped his gun out and took two steps, bringing the barrel to Sam's temple while blocking the way to the stairs. The house was the last one on a street that had no outlet, and the porch was hardly visible to the other houses. His dad had picked it for a reason. "One more time, what are you." His thumb hovered over the safety... shit, he'd imagined running into the man with the deep dark eyes, but not once had it involved holding a gun to his temple. "The truth, that's all I want."

Sam clenched his jaw as he looked at Dean from the corners of his eyes, muscle twitching. His fingers curled tighter into fists, knuckles turning white as he looked at him. "I'm your tutor." Sam said evenly, as his arms fell to his sides, hands still curled into tight fists, "If you're going to shoot me, do it." he said softly, watching Dean. "Go ahead. Do it."

Dean took off the safety, there was no need to cock this gun. "I'm not kidding around. What are you? Tell me what the fuck are you?" he demanded, his words spaced out, his heart knocking against his chest as his adrenalin kicked in.

The sound of silence reverberated around them. Sam didn't move at all, he just watched him with those damnable eyes. Like he had for years before he'd disappeared. Dean remembered staying awake nights, thinking he'd find him there again. Looking around wherever he went. For years. And even now, sometimes when he heard a sound in the night, he thought he'd find this boy in his room.

Letting the gun slide down and pointing it at the ground, Dean tucked it into the back of his waistband and went to sit down on the old sofa on the porch. "I used to look for you. For the longest time," he said, quietly, looking up into Sam's face. He was sure... damned sure.

Sam watched Dean put the gun away. Golden hazel eyes followed Dean as he walked and dropped down onto the sofa. It was on the tip of Sam's tongue to lie again, or to say something like, 'You looked for a tutor?', but he wasn't about to cheapen this, whatever it was between them, like that. Hanging his head, he spoke. "I shouldn't have come here. I'm sorry. I thought I could help you with school, that you wouldn't..." he sighed, looking over his shoulder toward his brother's car for a long moment. 

Finally, Sam looked back at Dean and nodded, "I heard your mother tell you about angels." He shook his head, as his gaze lowered to the porch floor, "I don't know if there are such things, but I knew I could watch over you." He looked back up at Dean with a nod, "And I did, for a long time, I did," he sighed and backed toward the stairs. "I'll see ya around, Dean Winchester." Sam told him, then turned and started walking back toward Edward's crappy Volvo.

Dean stared at him for a couple moments then muttered under his breath. "You just complicated my life, didn't you... fuck." He kicked at the rickety table and put his face in his hands, trying to get his emotions into check. This guy heard his mother, and then he played angel... sure, that made a helluva lot of sense, in _his world._

Sam reached his brother's car and unlocked the doors with the auto lock. Tossing his backpack and laptop into the backseat, Sam mumbled under his breath, "Nothing near as badly as you've complicated mine,, before turning to look back toward the porch, "I'm sorry I wasn't here when you needed me, Dean. I would have been. You know that." Sam told him, as he opened the driver side door and folded himself into the small car. 

Sam didn't think he needed to explain that. He knew that Dean's father had died while he had been held captive. He'd heard about it, read the small obituary. If Sam had been able to, he would have saved John Winchester for Dean. He would have because Dean would have wanted him to. 

Starting the car, Sam backed out of the driveway and took off down the road without a backward glance.

* * *

A week passed and even though he was in the same physics class as Sam, they never exchanged a word. One look at Sam and his brothers and sisters walking into the cafeteria and Dean had known that Sam wasn't the only one who was 'different,' they all were. What he couldn't figure out was whether they were evil and destructive. From the time they'd appeared in town right after he’d left on his mission, there was no rise in missing persons or murders, no electrical issues, nothing that would indicate they were doing anything they shouldn't be. 

And every day, Sam took the farthest seat from him, though Dean could feel the weight of his gaze. It was a familiar feeling and strangely reassuring. On occasion, he caught him at it, deliberately holding his gaze. His first instinct was to walk over and ask what the fuck he wanted... really wanted. What the hell was he? Now that he'd had time to think on the past, it was clear that Sam hadn't aged at all over the years. The fact that he could sneak in and out of their house... with his mother and father, both well known hunters in their own right, that had to mean something.

And yet, Dean let it pass. The risk that he wouldn't like the answer... that he might then have to destroy Sam... he just rather not face it. Maybe he wasn't John Winchester's son after all. Wasn't as tough as his old man. Or as good.

And now... staring at the stack of books in front of him in the library, he felt like he was drowning. He'd been called in to Principal's office this morning. It had been like facing a firing squad... all of his teachers lined up to tell him he wasn't getting his old work in fast enough and wasn't doing so hot on the new stuff. That if things didn't change, he wouldn't be allowed to graduate and would have to repeat twelfth grade. Well the chances of him actually doing a ‘do over’ were zero, and they knew it.

Science, history, English... that shit he could deal with, could pass by the skin of his teeth. But it was the classes where you needed to build on the knowledge you'd learned... that he was having trouble with. And all the assignments. Three papers, and that was just in English.

His mouth tightened as he looked at the list he'd made and tried to organize. It was impossible. _Mom, I can't do this._ His eyes stinging, he swept all of the books off the table, staring through glittering eyes at the librarian who tried to shush him. 

Sam had been standing at the back of the library, leaning against a wall in the corner as he looked through a book written in German. The tables had students at them, and Sam wasn't one for mixing and mingling.... not anymore. 

Hearing the books fall, he looked up to see Dean sitting there, shoulders hunched, as the librarian, a Ms. Wortenger gave him her customary 'Shush!' 

Closing his book and tucking it back into his backpack, Sam walked toward Dean's table, coming to stand behind him, a couple of steps away, he stopped. "You know, it's easier to use them when they aren't on the floor," Sam mumbled as he moved to crouch and gather the books for Dean, placing them back up on his table.

"Mind your own fucking business," Dean wiped at his eyes fast, sniffing almost soundlessly so no one, especially the guy who was at the head of the class, would see him like that. He took a deep breath, eyes on the table, wanting to shove the books right back to the ground again. 

Sam sighed and pulled to his feet, his lips drawn in a straight firm line as he looked at Dean, once all the books were off the floor. He moved to the far end of the table and pulled out a chair and sat down. "Look, I told you I would help you. You can do this. It's not that hard." Sam told him, as he opened one of the books and started flipping through the pages to find where they had left off in class. 

He was thankful that Dean had sat at one of the longer tables, he was also thankful that he had fed well the night before and although Dean's scent was doing strange things to his head, his mind... it wasn't making his teeth ache at the moment or his eyes darken. 

Sam looked up at Dean and licked his lips, "Are you gonna let me help you or not?"

"I am beyond help, Goddamit... just... go away," he met Sam's eyes. "We don't all come equipped with brains the size of Texas, alright?" 

Sam quirked a brow, frowning, "We?" he looked back down at the book, "I learned it," he looked back at Dean, "so can you." He sighed and ran a hand through his hair, "Like I said, are you going to let me help you, or are you going to just keep screaming obscenities at me?"

"What are you, mother Theresa now?" He wanted to tell Sam to pound sand. That he didn't need school for what he did. That this... this all meant crap to him. But it meant something to someone else. He wanted that last photograph for _her,_ that last one with a cap and gown. He swept his hand over the table. "I don't even know where to start. Who the hell knew they'd cover so much in a month." Not that it would have made a difference. Once he'd learned there was truth to the urban legend about missing body parts, he'd had to do something about them. 

Sam huffed, "Yeah, that's me, Mother Theres,." he frowned and shook his head before licking his lips and reaching for another book. 

He ran a hand down his face as he listened to Dean complain. "Well, we can start with whatever you're having the most trouble in and work our way back out of the worm hole," Sam told him as he opened yet another book. 

Glancing up, golden hazel met green, "You might as well give in and let me do this. I don't seem to know what 'go away' means any better than you do," he told him softly, giving him a pointed look, before tearing his gaze away and looking back down at the books. "Now," he said, voice slightly stronger, "what seems to be your biggest obstacle?"

Asking for help wasn't his thing. He _gave_ help Goddamnit not took it. Once more, the urge to tell Sam to fuck off welled up in his throat, but this time it didn't come out. The fact that the moment could have been but was not awkward sank in. "Too many papers to deal with, and... physics and calc. I was doing okay until I left school for a while, then..." he shrugged, and opened the calculus book.

Dean didn't know how it happened, but soon they were talking... or Sam was doing most of the talking, and he was listening and taking notes... and damn, he wished Sam was the math teacher. He neither talked down, nor talked above him, but matter-of-factly explained things. And when they started working on problems, Dean worked some of them backwards. His teachers discouraged it but Sam grew a bit too excited by it, showing him other ways to do the same thing and saying stuff like it showed he was creative. In response to the compliment, Dean merely called Sam a 'nerd,' but smiled.

A few hours passed and Dean's mind was fried. He unconsciously watched as a woman in a red dress got up. His gaze followed her ass swaying from side to side. Who knew Jason's aunt was a babe? She had to be here for a visit, he thought, wondering if she liked younger guys.

Sam's words slowly died away as he looked up to see Dean gazing off and not paying attention anymore. He followed Dean's line of sight right to some lady in a red dress. He poked Dean with the eraser end of his pencil, then motioned down at the books and papers before him. "That's not part off class," Sam grumbled, frowning hard in disapproval. "You're almost done with this one. You only have twenty five more questions to go and you're caught up in that class, Dean. Focus."

"Hmm, oh yeah." Dean gave a laugh and raised a brow, muttering 'Mother Theresa' again under his breath. How could Sam expect him to concentrate when a curvy thing like that walked by? "Twenty five... you know what time it is?" His stomach growled, as if to echo his sentiments. "Can we take a break, maybe grab some food?"

Sam pressed his lips together and gave Dean a curt nod. How easy it was to forget that humans needed to eat. Not to mention he had been excited about how well Dean was doing that he hadn't even thought about his needing to go anywhere, do anything. 

"Yeah, a break. Sounds good." Sam told him, pulling to his feet, and sliding his chair back in. "However long you need. It's fine. I'll be... around." Sam's lips tugged up at the corner of one side in an almost smile.

"You're not coming? Let's grab a burger, I'll buy," Dean offered. It was the least he could do. "Ever been to Meg’s diner? Chillie fries to die for."

Sam sucked his bottom lip into his mouth as he looked around, then back at Dean. "No, I'll just stay here and read. I'm good. Thanks though, I appreciate it," he told Dean with a nod, as he took a step back away from the table, pulling his backpack up off the floor and slinging it over his shoulder. "I'll see you later."

Just for a moment, Dean wondered if maybe one of the 'rich Cullens' didn't want to be seen hanging around him. Tutoring him was one thing, he'd been assigned that job. Nah, the students at school just talked trash and were jealous, it wasn't that. "Alright. Thanks man," he clapped Sam twice on the shoulder.

Sam had started to nod, to tell him it was nothing, but then his eyes widened and his words were lost somewhere on his tongue as soon as Dean's hand made contact with his shoulder. His eyes darkened just before he shot backward, his back slamming into the wall across the room behind him. 

"Don't touch me!" Sam nearly screamed it, before his head hung, his chest rising and falling with his breaths as he tried to regain control. His teeth were aching, his body trembling, eyes inky black as he gazed down at the floor, fighting not to launch himself at Dean. "Go," Sam told him softly, "have your food. I'm sorry... just go. Please."

"What the ..." Dean's heart slammed against his chest. He looked at his perfectly fine hand, then at Sam, then at his hand again. "What did I do?"

"You dirtied his white sweater with your grimy hands," a couple of students said, laughing as they walked by.

Dean wasn't sure about whether they were laughing at him since he could be found tinkering with cars at odd hours or at Sam. In either case, Sam wasn't even looking at him... it was as if he was willing him away, sort of like when he sat as far away as possible in class. Then why the fuck had he come over in the first place? Pissed off, he put his hands in his jacket pocked and walked the hell out. 

Sam didn't need to look up to know when Dean had left, his scent, his essence had left with him, leaving Sam feeling.... empty?   
He wasn't sure what that was exactly, but he didn't have time to worry about it right then, he needed to get out of there, before the wrong student walked by and Sam ended up tearing them apart and gorging himself on their blood. Slowly pulling from the wall, Sam grabbed up his backpack and headed out the door, head hanging, his long bangs nearly concealing his eyes completely. He didn't wait for Dean to get back or go anywhere, just straight to his car in the parking lot. 

Reaching his own 2009 gray Camaro, Sam unlocked the doors and slid behind the wheel, peeling out of the school lot, headed for the safety of home. He didn't stop, didn't allow himself to relax again, until he was leaning back against the door to his room. Only then, did he slowly slide down to the floor, as he pulled his legs up, his arms wrapping around his knees as he buried his head. "It wasn't you, Dean. It was me," he whispered softly.

* * *

Only a small light was on in his room, just enough for Dean to look up and stare at his dingy ceiling. It hadn't ever bothered him, the fact they never painted, or that the place was being held together by band-aids. It was just a place, a roof over his head, somewhere to plan out his next hunt, and the next one. But now... Yeah, he was thinking of how different the house would look it was painted and fixed up. Like he had that kind of money.

The look on Sam's face when he'd recoiled had him rubbing his thumb over his fingers again. There wasn't any sign of grease. He hadn't been working on his car. 

"Whatever," he whispered tightly, then turned over on his stomach, pulling his pillow under his head and resting his hand over his knife. He wasn't gonna let it bother him. Why should he give a crap what’ perfect Sam Cullen’ thought. It didn't matter. Forcing his eyes shut, he let out another breath.

* * *

"Sam? Let me in," Alice whispered, not bothering to knock. "Please?"

Sam sighed softly, and raised his head, wiping at his eyes as he pulled to his feet and opened the door to his room, taking a step back so Alice could come in. He didn't say anything, only allowed her to walk in as he leaned his shoulder against the now open door frame.

"Are you okay... you didn't..." No, she knew Sam hadn't hurt his Dean. She was short next to him, so she had to look all the way up to see the total anguish in his face. Slipping her hands very gently around his waist she rested her head on his chest. "You know it’s a great accomplishment, just the fact that he's alive."

"I hurt him." Sam told her softly, "Not... but I still hurt him," he told her, before leaning his head down and placing a small quick kiss on the top of her head as his arms went around her. "It used to be easier. Being touched never used to bother me." He gave a harsh laugh, though there was no smile, "Hell, I used to be the freak boy who could heal people just by _touching_ them!" He shook his head, closed his eyes for a moment. "Now... no one can touch me. You... Jasper maybe.... Emmet and Rosalie, if I see it coming." he shrugged.

"It's those monsters... what they did to you," she started to tug him toward the settee. "It'll pass, Sam. It will get better, I promise." The things they'd done to her brother, over and over... any other vampire, except for maybe Carlisle, would have come out of that hell hole with no control whatsoever and would have torn not only Dean apart, but any other human they came in contact with. Sam had always been 'the gentle one.'

"I wanted to hurt him, Alice. For touching me,” he huffed. "He slapped me on the back, thanked me for helping him, and I wanted to kill him for it. Wanted to launch myself at him and...." He looked away, couldn't finish, but knowing he didn't need to. 

He noticed she had managed to work them over to the settee and sat down with her. "He probably thinks..." he sighed, "I don't even know."

She thought about it for a long moment, still holding him. "Tell him." She looked up again. "You're going to spend time with him," she said it like it was a given, because she'd seen that much of the future. "So tell him, you have nothing to lose. He saw you in that place. Explain that since then, you don't like to be touched. If he doesn't understand, then he doesn't deserve to have you as a friend," she shrugged her slim shoulders. 

Sam tightened his arms around her slightly, hugging her to him as he closed his eyes with a sigh. "I... yeah, alright. I'll tell him." He had no idea _how_ he was going to say it. How he was going to tell Dean that since that place that no one could touch him save for his family and even they had to be careful, slow. All except for Alice anyway. 

It was odd that he felt safe in the arms of someone as small as Alice. Sure she was a vampire, so that made her strong no matter her size, but that wasn't it. If he were totally honest, he knew what it was. Alice reminded him of _home_. 

He and his sister were the only children to a poor family. He had been born in the 1920's when miracle cures seemed to abound. And that was when he had found out he had a 'gift', or so his mother called it. People would be healed just by touching him. They came from all over to touch 'The Healer Boy'. He was so used to being touched, it came as second nature to allow strangers to reach for him. In fact, it was this very lack of fear of being touched that ended with him being made into a vampire. 

He remembered he’d been out late, walking through the alleyways that his parents had always told him and his sister to avoid, but being a boy, he had a fearless streak.   
A stranger had approached him, pale and thin and looking like he needed... something. Sam had thought he was sick and needed to be healed, so when he had reached out and grabbed him, Sam hadn't put up a fight. That was the night that he had been turned into what he was. Had been left there in the alley in severe pain. Sam had thought he was dying. 

Once he had finally awoken, it was to find himself in his own bed, but with a terrible hunger raging through him. He had jumped out his window and ran off, afraid, afraid of what his body was telling him to do, afraid of what he wanted. 

Nearly a year passed and he lived off small animals he found in the forest, always telling his mother he wasn't hungry when she cooked for all of them. He couldn't help it, he had tried to eat food, only to nearly get sick to his stomach. Not to mention the taste had been horrific and Sam knew his mother had been a wonderful cook. 

He tried to keep from them the changes that were happening to him as much as he could, but the healings had also stopped. Touching him no longer healed people. The gifts of money, food, cloth for clothing began to dwindle, and they were left with very little to live on. 

He remembered coming home one night to find his entire family dead. Slaughtered. The scent of their blood had overwhelmed him, his eyes had gone dark as midnight, his teeth aching so badly he had whined, grabbing his face as he fought against the urge to drink what was left of their blood. 

That was when he had seen her. Abigail. She was under his bed, clutching his teddy bear tightly in her hands, her throat had been slit ear to ear. Sam had gently, carefully reached under his bed, his tears blinding him, and pulled his baby sister out, holding her in his arms, he had rocked her.... and sank his fangs into her neck, draining what little blood was left. He had run from the house then, ran into the woods and been captured. He’d thought of himself as a monster, maybe still thought of himself that way. Even all of Carlisle’s reasoning, telling him the mere fact he’d been able to live with his family and not hurt them while they lived was a miracle, didn’t take away his guilt. 

Sam blinked away the memory as he felt Alice's grip tighten on him. He slowly pulled away and looked down at her, seeing the question in her eyes he shrugged. "Thinking, remembering," he told her, looking down into her face he frowned. "Alice, have you ever... been attracted to a scent before. A person. I - he... I dunno. Nevermind." he sighed and hugged her again, letting the subject drop.

"Scent, of course. Person, well... Jasper," she smiled, and then gave him a sharp look. "Do you mean... Sam?" she gripped his forearm, "is it more than his blood? More than what you promised his mother?"

Sam opened his mouth to answer, only to close it again and look away. "I.." he fidgeted and bit his lip as he looked back at her, "Is it horrible if I say that I don't know, that I've never felt this before?"

"Of course not. Well, maybe a little," she laughed softly, giving him another squeeze. "how does it feel thinking about maybe kissing him?" Yeah it was a sneak attack, but she wasn't above that.

"I never had these feelings before, when he was little, when..." Kissing him? Sam thought about that, hung his head and bit his lip, pictured it as he ran his tongue slowly across his bottom lip. 

The muscles in Sam's arms where she held him tightened, as his eyes closed slowly. He nodded his head, as he bit into his lip again then licked them. He felt his cock twitch in response to the images floating in his head of pinning Dean against the wall, kissing him, tasting him, as he held his wrists immobile.

Feeling the changes in Sam, she had her silent response. "The answer is ‘yes’," she whispered, looking at the door a moment before Jasper opened it.

"Alice, come," he said, putting his hand out. "Now, right now." Sam's rising lust was spilling over Jasper's empathic curse so strongly that he hadn't been able to keep his mind on the movie he was watching. "Alice," he practically groaned, his gaze glued to her rosebud lips.

Sam's eyes fluttered open as he took in a ragged breath, turning his head toward the now open door and Jasper filling it. 

Looking back at Alice, Sam pulled his arms back and nodded to her, "Go, I'm okay." he told her softly. Though he was now far from okay. The images in his mind had sent a heat though his system. Looking away from the door as Alice rose from the settee, Sam blinked a few more times as he tried to get the image of Dean's full lips crushed under his, Dean's hard body pressed against his own, out of his mind.

* * *

When Dean parked his Impala next to one of the Cullens' BMWs, he patted his car. "Don't you worry, baby, you can outshine them any day." Throwing his back pack over his shoulder, he headed inside the school. He'd gotten some looks and knew he looked tired. More tired than after one of his allnighter hunts, that much was for sure. 

_Thank you Sam Cullen._

Every time he'd started to fall asleep, he'd seen Sam's face... the disgust with which he'd pulled away like he couldn't get far enough. Once... once there had been a time when Sam's face helped him get some sleep, though it gave him different nightmares. Long after Sam stopped showing up, when Dean had discovered the wonders of masturbation as a relaxing technique, it had been Sam's face he'd seen, Sam's body he'd imagined as he whacked off. It had been his own personal joke... it took five girls to wash away each one of those episodes and prove to himself he wasn't gay. Good thing it had been just a passing _thing_.

Morning classes went okay. Physics, not so much. He hated the fact that Sam was right there in the back of the class getting an earful of the teacher harassing him. The teacher didn't want to hear what he'd turned in for other classes that he was catching up in, he wanted to know what he'd done for physics and whether he wanted to be held back.

There wasn't any laughter from any of the students, just tension and embarrassed looks. Dean wanted to tell the teacher to fuck off. He was so close, so close... and then the bell rang.

The teacher wasn't done with his rant, but Dean was out the door with his stuff, muttering about ten things Mr. Wilson could do with his dick, and none of them fun. At least he got to the cafeteria early and grabbed himself just an apple when not even the cheese cake tempted him. Yeah, just as the Cullens walked in, he walked out, not looking at any of them and making damned sure he didn't touch any of them.

Outside, it wasn't quite drizzling, but it was misting. A little water never hurt anyone, and better outside than where _he_ couldn't give him that look. Striding out to the grass, he almost sat down, but it was too wet. Changing his mind, he went to his car and half sat, leaned against the hood, shining the apple against his jacket. _See mom... eating healthy._ Never mind that it was a rare occurrence for something other than fast food to go past his lips. 

Sam looked over his shoulder at Dean as he walked out of the cafeteria just as he and his brothers and sisters walked in. With a glance at Alice and a reassuring nod, he turned and walked back out, following after Dean. He watched him from the side of the building for a few minutes as he practiced just want he was going to say to him in his head, then he made his way over, stopping on the other side of Dean's car from him. 

Sam shoved his hands into his jean pockets as he stood there. Wouldn't you know, every damn line he'd practiced had simply left his head right then. Sam cleared his throat, "Dean," he said as he stepped slightly closer, "can we talk?" he shrugged, "about what happened at the library." Sam swallowed, he had yet to fully look into Dean's face, trying to find somewhere, anywhere else to look. Now it wasn't so much the memory of what he had done as the memory of the thoughts that had plagued his mind after Alice had asked him what he thought about _kissing_ Dean.

"Talk." Dean gave a laugh that half sounded like a snort and looked straight ahead toward the building. "Careful Sammy," he waved his apple toward the door to the cafeteria where several students were coming out. "They just might see you talking to me, and that would be bad, right?" He took a bite of the apple and looked down at his well worn jeans with holes right under the knees, then at Sam. "Why don't you and your designer jeans and..." looking down at Sam's feet, he went on, "fancy shoes just squeak on out of here. Just fucking beat it." 

Sam frowned at him, glancing over his shoulder at the other students coming out of the cafeteria. He didn't care about them. Why did he think he cared about them? His frown only deepened as Dean went on with his rant. 

He sighed and took another step closer, careful not to get 'too close'. Sam looked at him finally, golden hazel meeting green. "Why are you mad at me for the clothes I wear? Look, I only wanted to tell you I was sorry, that it wasn't you, it was me." he sighed, looked away, over toward his car parked beside Alice's across the lot.

Dean's mouth tightened, more so when he notice how reluctantly Sam drew close. "Right, yeah it's you," Dean nodded. "Careful Cullen, if you get any closer, you'll catch it." The blank look on Sam's face was irritating. "Disease or... I don't know, maybe you think I got fleas." Or dirty hands. He wiped his free hand on his jeans and took another bite, wiping the juice off his mouth with the back of his hand. That would probably disgust Sam too.

Sam frowned as he shook his head, golden hazel eyes watching the movement of Dean's hand as he wiped his mouth. "Why would I think you have _fleas_? Dean, I'm not like that." he huffed shook his head, head hanging. _If you only knew about me. The old me. The poor me._ Sam raised his head, "I don't care that your car is old or your house is old or," he pulled a hand from his jeans pocked and waved it, "that your jeans aren't designer!" Sam grit his teeth, glaring at him. "You're impossible, you know that?" he took another step closer, leaned in as close as he dared, but didn't breath in. "I liked you better as a kid." he whispered the words angrily, before drawing away, slightly slanted golden hazel eyes still narrowed.

"Yeah? So did I." He held his breath in. Sam's scent, he remembered it... it took him right back to the past. For a fleeting moment, the memories were so strong, he forgot what they were arguing about. He wanted another sniff, but Sam had already moved. Dragging his gaze away, Dean aimed for the trashcan in a distance and hurled the apple into it. 

"My car isn't old, it's a classic. There's a difference," he gritted out eventually, kind of surprised to still find Sam standing there. "What do you want? You're not an angel... you're not _my_ angel," he said, "I don't know why I ever thought that, or why you looked in on me, but you're off the hook, alright? Bye now, have a good life." 

Right there, that was when Dean learned something about himself. There had been a time when he'd really thought Sam was one of the angels his mom talked about. Maybe the reason his reactions hurt... no goddamnit... why they got him angry... was that a part of him wanted Sam to be, because he sure as hell didn't give a flying fuck what anyone else ever thought about his clothes or his house or anything... and there had been plenty of comments from others in his lifetime.

Sam shook his head slowly at Dean's words. "You don't have the _authority_ to let me off the hook." he told him, his words though whisper soft were gritted out.

Authority? What the fuck was he talking about? Before Dean could ask, Sam went on. For the life of him, Dean didn't know why he stayed to listen.

He sighed and looked away, "Look, ever since... " Sam paused, licked his lips, and looked back at Dean, "ever since, that place, I - I don't like to be touched. That's it, that's all. It has nothing to do with you."

"You..." he cocked his head. "I touched you over there, when..." Dean trailed off, remembering how Sam had asked to be left alone when he'd freed him. He'd told him to run away alone. Feeling like he'd been sucker punched, Dean came off the trunk and took a couple of steps toward Sam, then reminded himself to stop. "I... that's different. Okay... I mean sorry. You ah... seeing anyone about it?" He didn't really put any stock in shrinks but Sam had gone through something extreme.

Sam quirked a brow, the corner of his mouth lifting up into an almost smile as he shook his head. "No. I haven't told anyone. Only you and my family know." he looked away, "Not like it was the first time." he mumbled, before looking back and nodding toward the building, "Bells about to ring."

"What do you mean ? Sonova..." The bell rang. "What's not the first time, Sam?" He glanced at the building, knowing his English teacher would ride his ass if he was late, but maybe they could talk as they walked back.

Alice skipped across the grass and reached them, slipping her arm around Sam's waist. "Everything good?" she asked, her red lips curing up.

Dean's gaze went straight to her hand comfortably resting on Sam, then up to meet Sam's eyes. He'd lied to him? For what? Shaking his head and throwing him a dirty look, Dean walked away.

Sam smiled softly down at Alice as his arm wrapped around her. He nodded to her and was about to turn and introduce her to Dean, when Dean gave him the dirty look and walked off. 

"Dean? Dean!" Sam called after him, "Shit!" he looked down at Alice, "What did I do this time?" Sam looked up at Dean's back as he walked away and tried to use his telekinesis to bring him back, make him turn around, only to receive a big fat zero. Nothing. "Shit!" he looked down at Alice, "Something's wrong, I can't," Sam shook his head, glancing back toward Dean, "it isn't working!"

"What's not working, what happened?" she asked, equally surprised. Both guys had seemed calm when she'd walked out, then Dean was storming away and Sam was freaking out. 

Sam grit his teeth, leaned down and whispered near her ear, "My TK, I tried, but nothing's happening." Sam pulled back, watching as Dean started to disappear among the other students. "I can't make him come back." Sam pulled his arm from around Alice, "Dean!" he tried again, but still nothing.

"Oh." That was definitely strange. She shrugged, "it's not the worst thing that could happen. You told him? About the touch thing right? If he's still mad at you about that... eat him." She was only half joking.

Sam nodded to her, his eyes still on the sliver of Dean he could see through the crowd of students. Eyes wide, Sam turned his head and looked at his sister. He frowned and huffed, looking back down the hall, but saw no sign of Dean any more. "He wasn't mad. Not after I told him.... I don't think. He seemed fine..." Sam looked down at her, "until you showed up," he frowned in confusion.

"Me?" She looked miffed at that as she pulled her hand away, then her eyes flew back to his. "You told him we... I can touch you?" 

Sam groaned, closing his eyes. Opening them, he knew he didn't need to answer, but did anyway, "No, that really never came up... and then... but he... Ah, shit!"


	3. Chapter 3

Twilight brought a little bit of peace to Sam's troubled thoughts, but not much. He kept seeing the look on Dean's face, the anger at seeing Alice touch him so casually right after he’d told Dean he couldn’t stand to be touched. Sam hadn’t had much experience with humans, well, none that he cared much about anyway. At least not since he had become a Cullen. It had been just them, and they had been his world.

 

He thought back on their conversation and his failure to qualify his statement. Bur wasn't it a given that family was different anyway? Shouldn't Dean know that without Sam having to spell it out or him? Maybe he was just being difficult again. Maybe Dean Winchester had just grown up to be an asshole.

 

Yeah, that was why Sam found himself standing in front of Dean's house now. It was why he’d jumped from his window, on the top floor of the Cullen home and thought about Dean while he ran all the way to Dean's house. And it was why he now stood there looking up at the window on the second floor, the one he knew, just _somehow_ knew was Dean's.

 

Sam leaped up onto slanting roof right below Dean's bedroom window. He crouched, fingertips braced in front of him on the rough material of the roofs surface as he looked down through the window, watching Dean as he lay across his bed, staring into a small laptop that looked as though it had seen better days. There was an arsenal of guns laid about the bed around him, some taken apart, others still together, but all within reach, covering every square inch of the bed where his body wasn't.

 

"Expecting a small invasion, Winchester?" Sam mumbled under his breath before sighing softly.

He moved a hand, his elbow now on one knee, his fisted hand against his lips, the other hand still helping to keep his balance on the slanted roof.

 

Sam remembered doing this for hours, years ago. Watching as Dean would play in his room, or when his mother would come to tuck him in at night. The corner of Sam's lips turned up as he smiled softly thinking of Mary Winchester. She had been a wonderful mother to Dean. Sam only wished he'd been able to save her. If he hadn't been a vampire, if he could still heal through touch, if he had gotten there sooner, maybe... Sam closed his eyes with a huff, head hanging. Sometimes it seemed his entire world was built on 'if only's'.

 

Slowly Sam opened his eyes and lifted his head, looking back through the window at Dean, watching him now, watching the young man he remembered so well as a child.

Yup, definitely something was going on in Axtell, Nebraska. All indications were that the town's single hotel was having ghost issues. Dean finished underlining the part of the article that gave the biggest clues about the place's history, then reached for the nightstand and got a large envelope. He should go after this ghost, was dying to do so, but the sitch at school... Dammit. Stuffing the information he'd found into the envelope, he scrawled Bobby's address on it. His dad's friend would either do the hunt or find someone.

Frustrated by the thought of homework, he scrubbed his face,. That was when he felt something. His hand automatically reached for one of the guns he'd finished cleaning as he looked up toward the window. 

 

"What the fuck?" Seeing Sam Cullen watching him, his breath caught in his throat. He gave the guy a long look, them put the gun down and went back to staring at the lap top for a moment.

 

Sam was ready for Dean to go off on him again, to point that gun at him. Fire it even. Not that it would have hurt Sam, but he wasn't looking forward to the acting job of falling off the roof to complete his performance once the trigger was pulled. But then, after Dean returned his gaze for a long moment, he’d put the gun down and Sam let out a soft sigh silently thanking the God of his youth, who he had no idea would even listen to vampires, for not having to play out his 'death scene'.

 

Hope flared in Sam's chest that maybe Dean wasn't mad anymore, after all, he _had_ put the gun down. Maybe... He crept closer to the window, his hand, the fingertips that had been resting against the roof tiles, now against the glass.

 

Dean hoped he looked calm and collected, everything he wasn't feeling on the inside. Once, the sight of his _angel_ would have thrilled him, even when it had left him confused in later years. Now it just stirred up too much inside him, and he hated feeling out of control. Not knowing who or what he was dealing with. Why he cared that one minute the guy was acting like someone who gave a crap and the next like Dean was some sort of disgusting shapeshifter with oozing skin dirtying those perfect hands of his. Was it really that place he’d been imprisoned at that had made him so damned weird?

He glanced up, expecting Sam to have left, but no, he was still there. Yeah... really weird. He raised an eye brow and took a breath. Putting his computer to the side, he started putting some of the guns he'd taken apart to clean back together again. It gave him something familiar to do, something he didn't need to concentrate on because concentration had gone out the window with Sam.

 

Sam tore his gaze away from Dean as he looked down at the window latch, noting that it was locked. Well, at least he was one for safety, he _had_ remembered that since his parents’ passing. However, it made Sam frown, as he had been sort of hoping it was unlocked... not that a locked window had ever stopped him in the past, but...

 

Sucking his bottom lip into his mouth, he made a decision, keeping an eye on Dean to be sure he wasn't watching, Sam used his TK to turn the lock, then pulled the window up just slightly before leaning down so Dean could hear him through the small opening, "Can I come in?"

Dean looked up. "Like that's not creepy." He'd had the window locked, he knew he had. It was the kind of lock you'd have to break the window to work from the outside, unless you had a very strong magnet and... Could he really have left it unlocked? He gave a nod, "not like you're not half way in already."

Sam pushed the window the rest of the way up and gracefully swung himself inside, not making a sound. He stood there, next to the window, just watching Dean for a long moment, not sure what to say or if he even should. "I didn't lie to you, you know? It was the truth." Sam told him out of the blue, feeling the tension between them and thinking that had to be the cause. "Alice, my sister, she's... special. It's just her that can... without warning, no one else in my family can even touch me, Dean."

Dean nodded, not at all sure why the hell he cared so much about getting an explanation. Why the hell should he care that some guy shot clear across the room when he touched him? He didn't want to care. "You probably should see someone about that. Could get in the way of chicks cuddling up to you at the movies."

Sam frowned as he leaned back against the wall. "I don't..." he sighed and looked toward the floor, "Wouldn't know about that." he gave a soft huff and shook his head, looking away.

"And you never will if you..." He gave a shrug. What the hell did he know about psychology anyway? Nothing, so he should keep his trap shut. Besides, Cullen's dad was the new doctor in town and he should be able to advise his son about these things. 

 

Sam looked back at him, pressing his lips together, thankful that he was close to the window, and for the smell of the gun oil, it helped to cover Dean’s scent, but not completely.

Dean grabbed a cloth to wipe his hands completely free of gun oil. The smell was very familiar and comforting to him but Cullen was probably gagging. "How long?" He looked over at Sam. "How long were you there?" Most of the victims had been there less than a week.

 

Sam shrugged, "Seeing you, I knew it had been longer than I had first thought... after Alice and I talked... five years."

"Five years! Sonova..." Last time he'd seen Sam skulking around was when he'd been about thirteen, it meant he'd been grabbed shortly after. "They kept you all that time, why?" He gritted his teeth, knowing those people had it coming to them. 

Sam looked toward the floor, slowly raised his arms crossing them over his chest, as if to protect himself from the memories. "Tests." he answered softly, "It was shorter than the first time..." he pressed his lips together as he raised his head, "But, more brutal."

"You said that before, what first time?" There was definitely more going on here, more than he'd thought. "I didn't get them," he said quietly. "They're still out there. For now."

Sam nodded, taking a deep breath as he turned his head toward the window, hoping to add the fresh air to the air inside the room as he drew it in. "Yeah," he answered as he turned his head, looked back at Dean, "I know. But, it's okay." He shook his head, "They won't get the chance again." There was _something_ in Sam's voice as he said that last part, something that would have made anyone else’s blood run cold, but he didn't see that look of fear on Dean's face, didn't hear the change of rhythm in his heartbeat. 

 

The corner of Sam's lips lifted slightly, before he licked his lips, shifted his weight, letting his arms fall to his sides. "Let's just say that they aren't the first wackos who wanted to see what made me tick and leave it at that."

"You calling _me_ a wacko?" Dean raised his brows, and chuckled. "And you're right, they won't get another chance. I'm on to them now. They'll start up a new shop and this time..." All the misery they'd brought to people, and to Sam, they deserved a one way ticket to hell, and he was gonna give it to them.

It had been on the tip of Sam's tongue to ask Dean about his comment, about him wanting to know what made him tick, he hadn't missed that, not by a long shot, but then Dean had went on and Sam's face fell, a look of fear crossing it as his eyes widened slightly, "You're not going anywhere near them, Dean. Do I make myself clear!?" he took a step forward, "I mean it. Just stay the hell away from them." He took another step.

The authoritarian tone surprised and pissed Dean off. No one had told him what to do since his dad, no one had the right. "What do you think these are for?" He swept his hand across the weapons on his bed. "Show? If I hadn't gone after them that day, you'd..." He pressed his lips together. "I can't let them do that to people. You know that." If Sam had listened to Dean's mom's talk about angels, and he'd stuck around watching them other times, he couldn't have missed that they were all hunters. That first time they'd met, he'd been on a hunt because without mom around, his dad hadn't been able to find a safe place for him that particular night.

Sam grit his teeth, walking closer as he yelled, "I know that, but I also know that I can't let them possibly," he waved a hand, "probably, do that shit to YOU!" he poked his finger in the middle of Dean's chest as he said, 'you', eyes narrowed and angry. "I won't let them touch you, Dean. I'd rather go back myself."

Dean's hands automatically came up but he restrained himself. "Back off," he gave Sam a warning look, his heart racing at the sudden outburst, his mind trying to work out what it meant. One minute Sam was soft-spoken and gentle, and the next he was going all sergeant on his ass. He didn't even point out that Sam had touched him, but one more poke and they'd be having the same conversation as they had in the library, because Dean wasn't going to allow that without pushing right back.

Sam narrowed his eyes even more, but pulled back from Dean. "You have no idea what those... _people_ ," he spat out the word, "are capable of, Dean. I do." He nodded, jaw clenched, muscle twitching, "For five long years I was reminded every damn day of what they were capable of." he hissed out. "They cut me, they took from me... and never once was I not awake for it, never once was there any relief from the pain. I endured that pain, that misery, but I will NOT allow you to endure it, not for a _second_ ," he told him, his voice soft, deadly. "Even if that means that I have to go back there."

Sam was shaking, eyes darkening a shade, his chest tightening with fear. Fear for Dean, fear that he would indeed have to go back to protect Dean, that he wouldn't be able to kill those monsters before they caught him again. But, he'd made a promise. A promise to a dying woman who had thought him an angel, had held his hand and begged him to watch out for her little boy and Sam wasn't going to let her down. Not now, not ever.

"Alright," Dean gave a casual shrug and deliberately kept his tone calm and even. "Plenty of other hunts out there." He wasn't lying, there were. But whether he knew it or not, Sam had just kicked up his need to find those bastards that tortured him and to nail their coffins. 

Just this short conversation had given him a lot to think on. What could survive being cut on for five years like Sam had? And what was special about him that they'd treated him different. Used him daily. Secured him with heavy chains. What supernatural creature had eyes that could go from green/bronze to black in seconds? 

As he filed all that information away, he started to wonder why the outburst? Did Sam think he really was his angel? Even Dean didn't believe that anymore. Still, his vehemence, his panicked statement that he'd rather go back then allow Dean to be caught... it rang true. 

 

He licked his lips and let out a soft breath. "Why?" He cocked his head. "You don't even know me, not really. Why would you trade your freedom for mine... drama aside since I never intended to get caught?"

Sam eyed him suspiciously. There was something he didn't trust about the way Dean had suddenly agreed like that. He started to relax as he thought about it. He supposed that even a stubborn ass like Dean would be affected by his words. Wouldn't want to be cut on like he had been. Maybe, just maybe, he _had_ seen reason.

 

Sam started to back away from him toward the window. "It doesn't matter why," Sam told him softly, once he was back leaning against the wall near the window. He huffed softly, "No one intends to get caught, Dean and yet they caught me. You think you would do so much better?"

 _Yeah Sam, I know I could. Just because you know how to climb in windows and might have a few other tricks up your sleeve, doesn't mean you have the skills to hunt, trap and avoid traps._ It was damned hard, but Dean kept his thoughts to himself.

 

Sam hung his head, "I do know you. _Have_ known you since you were little," he looked up at him, shook his head, "I can't, I _won't_ allow anything to happen to you. You wouldn't survive what they did to me. Trust me." He looked back down, "There were times I didn't think _I_ would."

"Watching someone once in a while, talking to them once..." A lump formed in Dean's throat as he remembered the tall stranger wiping away his tears when his mother had gone to sleep one last time. Shrugging off the memory, he cleared his throat. "That's not 'knowing' someone." But he'd known Sam enough, it seemed, to look for him when he'd had to burn his own father's body a few years back. This was getting too weird.

 

Sam glanced up at Dean from under his long bangs as he spoke, only to turn his head away, his gaze fixed on the window sill. "It's as close to 'knowing' as I can get," he said softly, before looking up. "I should go." Sam paused at the window, looking back over his shoulder, "Don't... do anything stupid. I'll be watching." With that, Sam jumped from his window to the ground below and took off at a run.

Dean frowned and crossed the room, checked out the window and seeing nothing, slammed it shut and locked it. What the hell did that mean? Sam Cullen was worse than a medium, with all his cryptic comments. Standing there for a long moment, he replayed the things Sam had said and the way he'd acted. Talk about moody. With a shake of his head, he went back to the bed and checked his e-mail again.

* * *

 

Dean woke to the sound of the alarm and rain beating down hard. Groaning, he sat up and then felt the cool breeze. "Sonova..." Jumping out of bed, he went to the open window. He was damned sure he'd closed and locked it. Damned sure. His gaze went to the salt line he'd placed on the sill. It was broken, but not by wind or anything... it was clearly someone pushing right over it as if it wasn't a barrier. A sense of relief at the thought that at least there was nothing demonic about Cullen mixed with his anger and outrage that the guy had gotten in without him knowing. 

*

 

When lunch time came around, Dean was sitting with a rowdy group. He didn't really have any close friends but he never had trouble being in the party group. Of course he noticed the Cullens, as did everyone else. For supernatural beings who were trying to mix in, they sure did a bad job of it. Each one of them was a little more perfect than the other. Their skin was pale, some days as pale as Sam's had been when he'd found him at that facility, drained of blood and injured. 

 

The Cullens had taken their seats at the table they always sat in, far from the other students.

Sam sat next to Alice, Jasper on her other side, Rosalie and Emmett across from them. They spoke very little, even to each other and even then speaking more with looks and body language than with actual words.

 

As always, they ignored the other students and acted like no one else existed or mattered. Yeah, and that pissed off a lot of people, triggering gossip like crazy.

Of course Dean listened to all of it. Discounting certain things as being the product of jealousy. But there was a lot of truth to what was being said. They sure didn't act like brothers and sisters... not like any he knew anyway. 

 

The tap Dean’s shoulder had him turning around and laughing at some joke that wasn't that funny. Needing to distract himself from the Cullens and one Cullen in particular, he started to flirt with a girl... a dark haired girl with green eyes. Yeah, that would help. And maybe he'd get himself a hot date, which would help too.

 

Sam watched Dean for a while from under his bangs, before he stood up with his family to get in line for food. Food they wouldn't eat, and drinks that would be left untouched. At the salad bar, Alice stood between himself and Jasper, her arms around their waists. Sam knew her reason was to stop the both of them from doing anything stupid. Jasper, Alice’s mate, was new to their vegetarian way of life, and she probably thought both he and Sam, who was overprotective of her, might react badly to the whispered comments about them that might as well have been shouted across the cafeteria.

 

The others, Alice included, seemed to take the whispers in stride, passing it off as the stupidity of the human race. With a huff, Sam walked back to the table, his tray only half full of food. The small salad nowhere near enough for a guy his size, if he was going to make it _look_ like he was actually going to eat.

 

Slipping into his seat and waiting for his brothers and sisters to rejoin him Sam stole a glance from under his bangs again at Dean. He clenched his jaw as he watched Dean flirting shamelessly with some dark haired girl, who seemed to be hanging on his every word. The longer Sam watched, the angrier he became with what he was seeing. Golden hazel eyes slid to the milk carton on her tray and the corner of his lips curved upward slightly.

 

The small carton started to shake slightly, though it seemed neither Dean nor the bimbo noticed. Then as Sam narrowed his focus, the carton burst open wide, spilling and spewing milk all over the girl, their table and Dean, just as the other Cullens came back to their table.

 

Sam let out a choked half laugh, before he swallowed it down as he watched the girl and Dean both jump to their feet. The girl’s hair and shirt were dripping wet with milk and she seemed to be blaming Dean for it. He tore his eyes from Dean and his little milk covered bimbo as he heard Emmett snort, Rosalie sigh, and Jasper gasp. Alice however, only laid a hand on his shoulder and gave it a slight squeeze before they all took their seats.

 

"Well, at least it's good for her hair," Alice commented softly as she picked up her fork and started pushing the salad around in her bowl.

"I swear I didn't touch it," Dean was protesting as he started to wipe at her chest but stopped before touching her and lifted his arms as if to surrender. "It just freaking exploded." Looking down, he started wiping at the mess on his own clothes only to glance up and see her walking away. "Wait, how about that date?" When she didn't turn around, he swore under his breath, running his hand through his hair. He really could have used a good lay, or whatever she was willing to give up.

From the corner of his eyes he saw Sam wearing a rare grin. When their eyes met, he could have sworn the guy's shoulders were shaking. Taking a deep breath, he strode right over to the isolated Cullen table, ignoring all the pairs of eyes on him. "I need to talk to you," he said, pointing at Sam."

 

Clearing his throat, Sam exchanged a look with Alice, before looking up at Dean and quirking a brow as he tried to hold back his grin. "Problem?"

Dean made a face. "Not about that. You coming?"

 

Smile falling away completely, Sam looked back at Emmett and Rosalie, before pulling to his feet and nodding slightly, "Yeah." he answered softly, laying a hand on Alice's shoulder.

 

"No," Emmett cut in as he pulled to his feet too, looking at Sam, then glancing at Dean, "If you want to talk to Sam, you can do it here."

 

Sam nodded to his brother and slowly sat back down, Alice slipping her hand onto his shoulder as he did.

 

Once Sam was seated, Emmett slowly sat back down too.

"What?" Dean spread his arms, "you've got to be fucking kidding me. Sam?"

This Dean guy looked like he was wound up and it wouldn't take much to get Sam the same way. Then everything would hit the fan. "Sam," this time it was Rosalie, her voice soft and pleading in contrast to the hard glint her eyes held for Dean.

Sam looked from Rosalie to Dean, "You," he nodded, "you can talk in front of my family, we don't have any secrets."

"Well this gives 'family affair' new meaning." His gaze shifted over perfect faces, now looking away as if they weren't sitting-in on what he'd wanted to be a private talk. Fuck it... if this is how Sam wanted it, then so be it. "My window. I'd locked it." His eyes held Sam's.

 

Sam looked at him, a blank expression on his face. "So, you did..."

Dean's mouth flattened into a thin light. "It was open this morning. I _know_ you were there." Was he really going to deny it? 

Sam quirked his brow as he crossed his arms over his chest, "Do you? Like you _knew_ you were going to score," he glanced toward Dean's table, then looked back at Dean, "with the little bimbo?"

Raising his eyebrows, Dean stared at him. "What does that have to do with... listen, I know, Goddamnit. You used to do that when I was a kid, it's you. I'm not a kid anymore, and you try that again, you might end up with your head blown off or an eyeful of something that maybe you shouldn't see. I don't sleep with teddy bears anymore."

 

Sam was well aware that Dean wasn't a little kid anymore, but he wasn't going to comment on that. Instead the corner of his lips pulled up slightly into an almost grin. "I'll take your warning under consideration," Sam told him evenly, before leaning forward and uncrossing his arms, resting his forearms on the table, he quirked a brow again, "Was that it?"

Giving him a look, Dean didn't answer and just walked away. Why the hell did that guy think it was okay, breaking into people's homes, snooping around, and God knew what else. He closed his mind to memories of dark, hungry eyes that had affected him in the strangest ways. 

"He's rude," Rosalie said. "What do you see in him?"

Sam shrugged as he picked up a piece of lettuce and started inspecting it like he'd never seen such things before, "He wasn't always rude."

 

"If he doesn't know what we are, he's going to figure it out," Emmet added. "Dad said it’s a good thing the older Winchester isn't around or we wouldn't be so welcome in Forks." Not that any hunter worried them other than it would interfere with their plans to peacefully make a home for themselves and fit in as much as possible.

Sam looked at his brother, jaw clenching, "I made a promise, Emmett. If it wasn't for that woman, I'd," Sam glanced around, lowered his voice even more, "we'd all be in a lot bigger mess because of my weakness." He huffed and shook his head, "I can't let her down. I owe her," he said softly, before pulling to his feet and standing with his tray. 

 

"I'm sorry. I _have to_ do this. I have to see it through to the end." With that Sam turned, carrying his tray to the trash and dumping his food he hadn't touched.

 

* * *

Sam stood at the window of his room, his back straight, jaw clenched. You didn't have to be a mind reading vampire like his brother Edward to know he was thinking of Dean. He'd said for Sam to stop coming around and he would... until he knew Dean would be asleep. Until it was too late for him to possibly be up, and then that's when he would go back. Sure, it didn't solve the window problem, per say, but Sam could be sure to lock it again after himself from now on and Dean would never have to know that Sam spent the entire night there watching him sleep, watching over him... his _angel_.

 

Sam scoffed at that and shook his head. Some angel he was. Since when did an angel want to drink you dry? Possess you body and soul? But, Sam had made a promise, and he was going to keep that promise if it killed him. He'd be the _angel_ Mary had thought him to be, even if it was an illusion. With a glance over his shoulder at the clock, Sam jumped out his window to the ground below and headed for Dean's house, reaching it, in a matter of minutes.

 

Dean had worked on his English paper for as long as he could until he got sick of it and shoved it aside. All evening, he'd been looking at the damned window... expecting company. And why the hell he should be looking forward to it when he knew damned well that if they didn't start off arguing, they'd end off arguing, he didn't know. Besides, he was the one who'd told Sam to cut it out. Maybe he'd gotten through to him, or maybe one of his brothers or sisters had.

No, he didn't want Sam at his window or in his room. Yeah, he'd liked it as a kid, but the last time he'd been there, he'd left Dean confused. And then he'd never come back. 

Pushing off the bed, Dean knew it was because Sam had been captured by those nut jobs. It didn't change how hard it had been, and the questions he'd had. Not that he was even sure Sam would have talked to him. They'd talked only that one time when his mother died, that was it. After that time, Sam let him see he was around but never got close.

Glancing at the window again and seeing it was clear, he started to walk toward the bathroom, dropping his clothes on the ground along the way. The bathroom was small and claustrophobic so he had the habit of leaving the door open. He waited a few minutes for the water to get hot, then stepped inside and pulled the glass shower door closed. The hot water running over his head and back felt damned good.

 

Sam leapt up to Dean's window, crouching outside, hand against the glass as he looked in.  
He didn't see Dean anywhere around in his room, but he could hear the water running inside. Leaning forward, Sam looked toward the bathroom. 

 

What Sam saw made his throat dry, his eyes darkening slightly. Swallowing hard, Sam leaned a bit further against the window, one hand raised and pressed against the cool glass. He licked his lips as his eyes traveled over the side view of Dean's naked body. The curve of his tight ass, the way he was arching back slightly to rinse his hair had Sam beginning to take in large gulps of air. 

 

His eyes traveled to Dean's trim sides, lean waist, hips. Sam squeezed his eyes closed, then opened them again. He should probably not be sitting here staring, he should probably look away, but he couldn't bring himself to. Even though he knew it was the better idea.

Dean quickly scrubbed his body, bending over to reach his feet, then straightening. Tossing the soap aside, he stood under the steaming water, letting it relax him. He had one hand on the tile, head bent slightly, thinking hard, trying to come up with a way out of writing all those papers for class when his mind wandered away from him.

His dad had been on the move and left him at a long term rental type motel in the middle of nowhere USA. He'd been thirteen and bored shitless. The crappy t.v. in the room hadn't had any reception, his school work was done, and he'd had no one to talk to. He was used to it, but for some reason he had cabin fever, so he decided to go out. There was no way dad would be back and catch him out late, and he was old enough to protect himself.

He'd hung around the small town, and then headed out into the desert. Hiking under the moonlight... ha, looking for trouble under the moonlight, more like. Finding none, he'd sat on a boulder. That was when he saw _him_. Sam. Usually he was in the shadows, but that night, the moon had been low and bright. 

For the first time, it struck him how tall his angel was, and how forbidding his expression could be. There was no smile for him this night, and those perfectly straight white teeth were hidden from view. His prominent jaw appeared tight, his eyes unusually dark. Something fluttered in Dean's belly. He swallowed and looked into the angel's eyes again. Even from a distance, he could see a deep hunger in them. A need. Licking his own lips, he looked around. Nope, he was the only one there, the only one that the angel was looking at.

A shiver of fear ran down his spine. Then he realized it wasn't fear. It was something different. It was affecting his entire body... all of his muscles getting tense and tight. When the angel tilted his he head back slightly, Dean was momentarily mesmerized by the dark slash of his lips. His breaths started to come faster and he sought out the heat in the guy's eyes again. His heart raced. Something was gonna happen. Something wonderful.

Then the angel was gone.

That night, and for a long time after, each time Dean thought about the look in the angel's eyes, his body reacted. A couple of years later, he found his hand wandering to his cock as he thought about the heat in the angel's eyes... the way they made him feel.

"Aw, man." Dean looked up and opened his mouth to let some of the water in. Why the fuck was he thinking of _that_ now? He tried to get it out of his head, but he couldn't. His cock was already stirring at old memories and seeing Sam up close and personal, drawing in that strangely intoxicating scent of his, hadn't helped. 

Maybe just this once, he thought, turning slightly, still hanging onto the wall with one hand, but moving his palm slowly down over his stomach to his cock, and wrapping his fingers around it. Closing his eyes, he started to stroke.

Sam continued to watch Dean, watch each movement he made, each touch of his hand on his own body. Sam's muscles tensed, his jaw clenched and unclenched as the hand on the window curled slightly, fingertips digging into the glass.

 

As Dean's hand slid down his body, Sam's eyes widened, then dropped to Dean's just visible cock, a soft sound escaping him, somewhere between a gasp and a groan. He bit his lip, finger tips gripping the glass of the window harder. He started to feel his own cock twitch in response to what he was seeing, to watching Dean slowly begin to stoke himself. A soft whimper left Sam as he laid his forehead against the glass.

 

Somewhere in Sam's mind, he wondered what or who it was Dean was thinking about, but Sam shoved those thoughts away, not wanting to know which bimbo from school it was. For that moment in time, in Sam's mind, this was, did, belong to him. He could have this one dream, right? As long as Dean never knew? As long as he hid from sight. As long as he ran far enough away later... couldn't he?

How could the thought of someone's eyes... a guy’s eyes... make him so crazy with need? He was already so fucking hard, each glide of his hand up and down his shaft bringing him closer as he thought about that hunger... pretended it was lust, a forbidden need. That drew a groan from Dean. He squeezed himself and stroked harder, faster, holding Sam's face in his mind, imagining him tipping his head back and looking at him under his lashes... imagining him breaking and asking to be touched.

"Unh... unh... hell yeah... unh..." so close, so fucking close, he was about to blow.

Sam's eyes were glued to Dean, flickering between watching his hand on his cock and his face. 

Sam felt feverish, which was just plain stupid as he was cold, always cold to the touch. Maybe it was an inner heat, but he rolled his forehead against the cool glass anyway.

 

His eyes darkened to inky black, his breaths panting out like humans who had been working out too much. If he could have, he was sure he would have been sweating. Liquid heat pooled in his belly, he was so hard, so full of need. 

 

He could hear every sound Dean made, almost imagine what it would be like to touch him, to feel him. Sam wondered what it would be like to kiss Dean. He had thought about it when Alice asked him to, but Sam had never kissed anyone before, at least not a lover. 

 

Sam's fingers dug into the window, small shavings of glass peeling off under his nails. He held his breath, waiting, eyelids lowered as he tilted his head back just slightly, watching Dean from under his lashes. His straight white teeth bit and cut into his bottom lip, drawing blood. His free hand, sliding down his thigh to press his palm against his own erection, a soft groan escaping as he did.

Dean started jerking off harder, needing so badly to come. Now... now Goddamnit. He imagined Sam's mouth taking him, all of him, and that was it. His balls drew up tight. He arched back. 

 

"Unh... unh… yeah....hell yeah!" he practically shouted his release, slapping his palm hard against the tile as ropes of cum hit the wall a few feet under his hand. 

 

Sam's breath whooshed out of his lungs, as he watched Dean come. _Holy hell..._

Sam was panting hard, his chest rising and falling rapidly with each breath. His teeth started to ache as he thought about just opening the window, going in and taking what he wanted. What he needed. His eyes slowly closed as he pressed his lips together, breathing deeply through his nose as he tried to regain control over himself. And then he heard _her_ voice in his head, "I know what you are. I know you're his _angel_. Watch over him for me.... always. Please."

 

Sam's eyes opened as a growl mixed of rage and need erupted from his throat. He drew back the hand he had on the window, made a fist and let it fly, punching right through the glass. The sound of glass shattering like from an explosion filled air. Nearby birds flew away, scattering in fear.

 

Sam pulled his hand back, dripping with blood, and jumped from the roof. By the time his feet hit the ground, his hand and wrist were already mostly healed. He ran off into the woods to rid himself of at least one need....

"What the!" Dean shoved the glass door open and threw a towel around his waist as he rushed across his room, cursing when he almost stepped on glass. "The hell?" Walking around the glass, he reached the broken window and look out. "Freak!" 

 

Pulling back, he wondered if it was Sam. Had he thrown something in? But why?

Then he saw the blood. That made him look out again. What had just happened? He listened for any sounds... and got nothing. "It better not be you," he muttered, but who the hell else had a habit of climbing to his window? If he lived to be a hundred, he had the feeling he would never understand Sam Cullen. 

A half hour and a hundred curses later, he'd gotten rid of the glass and blood, and nailed a board over the missing window panel. He couldn't sleep with the window open, and there was no way he was gonna sleep in the safe room downstairs. As he tumbled into bed, he cursed again. Just what he wanted ... a board over his window. At that thought... any relaxation he'd gotten from jerking off was long forgotten. He'd have to start all over again...

* * *

Drinking his fill of deer might have quenched Sam’s thirst, but it did nothing for his _other_ hunger that continued to burn inside of him. He’d gotten home, gone straight to his room through the window, and collapsed onto his settee, his mind, his thoughts filled with images of what he had witnessed. 

 

Dean in the shower, naked, his beautiful body wet and hard. The sounds he had made, the look on his face. Sam closed his eyes, turning his head to the side with a groan. He was hard... again.

 

The hunt had taken his mind off of things enough to help him before, now what was he going to do? His mind started to wander and he thought about what _he_ would do, would have done, if he had gone into Dean's room.

 

He thought about walking into the bathroom, about stepping under the spray with him, pressing him back against the wall, pinning him there. Kissing those lips that he was sure would be petal soft, tasting his sweet mouth, his neck. All the while he explored is body with one hand, he would pin both Dean's wrists to the wall with the other. He thought about soft wet slippery skin and the hard muscle underneath. Thought about running his tongue along Dean's jugular, feeling his blood rush through his body, about sinking his fangs in and how incredibly sweet he knew, just _knew_ Dean would be.

 

Sam groaned and rolled onto his side, just as he heard Jasper and Alice's door slam shut, heard their voices, then their sounds of love, which were NOT helping him any. Ah, hell...

 

It was going to be a long night.... a very long night....

 

* * *

 

The next day at school Sam made damn sure to avoid Dean Winchester. There was no way he wanted to be even in the same room with him unless it was absolutely necessary... like maybe the Apocalypse… let alone be next to him or talk to him. Sam was making sure he kept that promise to Mary Winchester, even if it meant keeping himself as far away from Dean as possible.

 

Well, apparently, the fates thought it would be funny to totally blow that little idea out of the water. They were having an assembly in the Gym, all students _had to_ attend, there was no getting out of it. Sam knew that first hand as he had tried damned hard. He’d argued and fought, all of which had done nothing more than make him one of the last to enter the gym. Shit.

 

Walking in, Sam looked up into the bleachers, to find his brothers and sisters. They were all sitting in the back, exactly where he wanted to be and there was an empty seat next to Alice. It would have been perfect, if it hadn't been for one thing...it was also right next to Dean Winchester. Shit, shit, shit.

 

Sam hadn't even had to look for him, had known right where he was the moment he had walked into the gym, had smelled his scent, felt his presence, and had done his best to ignore him. Now however, that was obviously not going to be an option. Fuck.

 

Sam's eyes met Alice's and he gave a small shake of his head, his lips set in a firm thin line, before his eyes scanned the rest of the bleachers. There was no way he was sitting there now. He didn't like the idea of sitting lower, students were always brushing up against you if you didn't have the wall at your back. But there was no way he could sit there next to Dean now, as if nothing had happened, as if he hadn't seen, hadn't heard, hadn't hungered, hadn't wanted to possess... no way.

 

The only other seat open was right down in front near the steps, where everyone would be brushing past him, touching him. Sam grit his teeth, jaw clenched, he started for _that_ seat anyway. He'd have to manage...somehow.

 

Just as he reached it, some freckle faced kid with coke-bottle thick glasses took the spot, making Sam's steps falter and stop, his eyes going back to the empty seat between Alice and Dean.

 

Resigned to the fact that fate hated him and wanted to make him suffer, he started up the bleacher steps. As he sat down next to Alice, he made damn sure he left a wide gap between himself and Dean, even if it meant leaning way toward his sister. She put a reassuring hand on his knee briefly, and for a moment, it seemed to help a little.

 

With a sigh, Sam sat back, his back pressed to the wall, head tilted slightly back, as he kept his eyes straight ahead, looking out from under his lashes, his muscles tense, as he tried to ignore Dean completely, to pretend he wasn't even there.

It wasn't as if Dean had missed how weird Sam was acting all day long. He'd noticed how the guy quickly changed directions twice when they'd been walking toward each other in the school halls. He'd also skipped physics. And now, he was looking to sit anywhere but next to him. It wasn't as if Dean had purposely chosen to sit next to the Cullens, but he liked to face the entrance, and he liked having his back to a wall, and this had been the only open area.

Turning, he glanced over at Sam who looked like someone had put a piece of cheese under his nose... or like Dean smelled that way. Without bothering to hide what he was doing, Dean sniffed himself, then looked at Sam again. "Dude, we can't all smell like cookies."

Sam nearly groaned out loud. He _would_ talk to him _now_ woudn't he? Slowly, Sam frowned, head rolling against the wall as he looked over at Dean with a quirked brow, "Excuse me?"

"Cookies. You always smell like chocolate chip cookies, but you look at me like I smell like.... ah..." he searched for something bad enough, "blue cheese," he shuddered. "I took a shower." This time, he gave Sam a pointed look.

 

Sam's face had scrunched up into a look of utter disgust at the thought of the smell of _either_ of those things, but before he could comment on how gross they _both_ were, Dean said the one thing that had Sam had a beating heart, would have made it skip a beat. 

 

Instead he swallowed hard and quickly looked away, "No doubt." he mumbled softly. This conversation was going nowhere good. Sam turned his head to look down toward his brothers and sisters. If Dean kept this up, he'd ask Emmett to trade seats with him.

 

"Yeah... well you're the one who looks like you're doubting. Do you bake every morning or something?" Good thing he had a thick skin or he'd have gotten his feelings hurt.

 

Sam shook his head, glancing at Dean from the corner of his eye. "I don't know what you're talking about. Maybe it’s... my sister's perfume you're smelling."

"Maybe you use her fancy shower gel," he muttered in response, thinking of a girl he'd been with. She'd had shower gels in chocolate, vanilla and strawberry scents. "And speaking of showers..." he completely ignored the teachers asking for silence, "gimme me your hand."

 

Sam's head turned and he looked at Dean, brows furrowed in suspicion. "Why? No. Why? I don't like to be touched, remember?" Not to mention, Dean Winchester holding onto his hand right now was _not_ the best idea in the world.

"Show me your hands." Dean jerked his chin upwards, pull up your sleeves.

 

Sam narrowed his eyes and lifted his hands, turning them over and back. "Satisfied?" he nearly growled before leaning forward and turning his head, looking at his brother. "Emmett, psst."

 

Sam waited until Emmett looked at him, after he had tore his gaze from Rosalie. "Trade with me. Please?" He watched his brother frown and look at his sister, before standing and making his way over. Sam immediately and traded seats, a small uplifting of the corner of his mouth showed his satisfaction at knowing he was getting away from Dean Winchester and his questions.

 

Arms on his knees and leaning forward, Dean looked over at Sam in disbelief, then he pulled back and sat straight. "Asshole," he muttered. What the fuck was with that guy? He was the one who'd broken in and now he was acting like... Dean didn't even know what he was acting like. Even if Sam's arms were free of wounds from the glass, he was sure... damned sure it had been him. It made sense now, how he survived five years under those people's knifes. He healed fast. Did he grow new parts though? Is that why they kept him so long? Thinking about the possibilities, he kept his mind off the slow burning anger that was developing toward Sam. Again.

Emmett looked over at Dean, "As I hear it, he's an asshole who saved your life. A little respect might be in order." With that Emmett looked away, completely dismissing the human beside him.

 

Sam sighed, leaning his head back against the wall, jaw clenched as he closed his eyes. He felt a hand touch his and opened his eyes to see Alice's hand over his own. His eyes slid to her and the corner of his mouth lifted up into an almost soft smile.

 

"He's the ass." Rosalie muttered.

" _He_ saved me??" Dean gave the guy a scathing look and waved his index finger in a circle near his temple. "Guess it runs in the family." Yeah, they were all looney. Leaning forward again, he looked as if he was paying rapt attention to the teachers, like he really wasn't wondering what the hell was going on with Sam. Why he ran hot one moment and cold the next. Was it only to him, or was he that way to everyone?

 

* * * 

 

Two days passed and Sam and Dean hadn't spoken at all. Sam had left the assembly with his brothers and sisters surrounding him protectively making sure that Dean couldn't get to him.

Not once since had Sam seen or been by Dean's place. Well, that wasn't totally true. He had been by, but he hadn't gone to the window, and it wasn't just due to the boards that were blocking his view.

 

It was Friday afternoon and as Sam left the school, he’d heard Mr. Wilson rip into Dean again about his school work and how he just wasn't getting it done. It bothered the hell out of him, but he still left.

 

Hours later, he was still thinking about Dean. How he couldn't keep hiding, couldn't keep acting like if he didn't look directly at Dean that what he’d seen and how he’d felt hadn't happened. Just as those thoughts tumbled through his mind, he concentrated on Dean, focused on his scent, and somehow, for the first time since he’d been captured, he started to sense Dean’s feelings… sort of blurry at first.

 

Sam had always been able to _feel_ Dean, ever since the night in the caves, so long ago. Whenever Sam had thought about the blond haired little boy, he had been able to feel what Dean felt. Dean's feelings had become Sam's feelings as if whatever was happening to Dean was instead happening to Sam. When it came to Dean, Sam had gotten a small view of what Jasper's world was like. But then, after he had been captured... his own daily horrific pain had somehow built an invisible wall, one that shut Dean out completely. Once he’d come out of that place, he found he could not feel Dean anymore, not even a little. 

 

But, now, it was like the veil between them had been torn… and thinking, concentrating on Dean opened him up to Dean’s feelings again. Sitting at the stoplight, Sam closed his eyes briefly as he focused harder. The first thing to slam into him was Dean's lust, hard and hot. It had Sam gasping for breath, eyes flying open, just as the light changed to green.

 

The one good thing was that with the window open, Dean’s scent had hit him like a ton of bricks and he could track him. His gaze narrowed as he looked down the road at Gink's. It was a teenage dance club that sometimes opened just after school and served coffee, soft drinks and let some of the students perform armature acts before the nightly dancing started. Apparently, Ginks was open this afternoon. 

 

Sam's jaw clenched as he thought about the place. He'd been in there once himself, not that he had been there for the fun, but there had been a big "ta-do" about the place and he'd had a paper to turn in, in his behavioral sciences class. What was he going to write about? The art of being taken prisoner and being sliced and diced for five years? So, he'd come here, hoping to get some sort of an idea of something he could write. As far as Sam could tell, the place should be named Kink's, not Gink's. It was dark and the girls who went there needed someone to buy them clothes instead of the barely there outfits they wore.

 

Some girl had tried to pick him up when he was there. The idea of it still had him shaking his head. If only she had known _what_ she had invited back to her bed that night, she would have run screaming from the room.

Pushing down on the accelerator, his Camaro roared and he made it to Gink's a lot faster than legally allowed. Not that he cared a whole lot. The police never bothered him. And when they had a mind to, it seemed that an odd explosion would happen across town that would need their attention far more than some petty speeder.

 

Pulling into the lot, Sam parked his car beside Dean's black '67 Impala. It wasn't hard to know it was Dean's, after all, who else in this little town had a '67 Chevy Impala that they kept polished like it was a new copper penny? Pulling from his car, Sam shook his head as he glanced at Dean's car. He should just let Sam buy him a new one. Something with a lot less miles and a lot faster engine, but then, he wasn't a vampire, and Sam could just see Dean getting himself into trouble in such a car. Maybe it was best that Sam had never suggested that.

 

Pulling the door open, Sam walked into the dimly lit dance hall, though he could see perfectly, there was no way a human would be able to see very well at all in here. He didn't have to look for Dean as he entered, he could smell his scent, it got even stronger as soon as Sam had opened the door, like a slap in the face, making his eyes darken slightly.

 

Dean was sitting in the back of the room, facing the door, a book open out in front of him, a girl, some dark haired thing with boobs about ready to bust out of her shirt, sitting on his lap. They were talking softly and laughing, and kissing as they looked from the book to one another then back to the book.

 

Sam could _feel_ each kiss as if it was being given to him. Feel soft lips against his, a tongue in his mouth. He raised a hand and wiped the back of it across his lips as if to wipe away the feeling. He grit his teeth and walked toward them, stopping as he reached the table, leaning down, fisted hands on the table top, he looked at Dean. "I heard Mr. Wilson today, I came to help you with your homework."

 

Sam's eyes slid to the girl and back to Dean, "There is no way you can study here. It's too dark for you to see." he pulled up, standing straight, "Come on, Dean. Let's go."

Dean felt Emily tense as if ready to pull away, but put his hand around her waist and settled her back down on his lap. "Don't listen to the lunatic, sweetheart, he was just leaving."

She smiled and turned her head toward Dean, bringing their mouths together for another kiss.

It had been too long, it felt so good, the way her ass was grinding down against him. Dean pushed his tongue in Em's mouth, tangling it with hers as he pulled her close. His temperature was definitely sky rocketing. When he came up for air, he saw Sam was still there. "I got me a new tutor... with benefits."

Emily gave a throaty laugh. "I use the carrot system... every time he gets the answer right, he gets a treat."

"Baby, I got a _carrot_ for you," Dean said lifting his hips and putting his hand on the side of her face, turning her and greedily kissing her again. So what if it was the heat in Sam's eyes he was imagining now each time he stabbed his tongue inside her mouth, so what if it was that hunger, that unquenchable thirst he'd seen that he was reaching for? She felt good in his arms and against his cock, she tasted good, and if he had to guess, he was getting laid today.

Sam's eyes narrowed dangerously, the feelings that he was getting from Dean, the way he could feel each kiss, almost as if _he_ were the one being touched, Dean's rising lust, all of it combined to darken his mood. To stir things inside him that he didn't understand, and one thing that he did.

 

Who the hell did she think she was?

 

This was _not_ studying!

 

Sam's eyes darkened, his teeth ached. He clenched his teeth jaw set as he gazed down at them, head slightly tilted back, looking at Dean from under his lashes. "Dean..." the one word was low, a warning, as his hands clenched and unclenched into fists at his sides.

 

The next few moments happened in a blur, Sam couldn't even say _what_ exactly had set him off. Was it the slight uplifting of the corner of Dean's lips as he leaned in toward the girl as he seemed to ignore Sam's warning? Or was it the flash of his tongue meeting hers just before their lips met? Or was it the one word that reverberated in his head in a feral growl, _'MINE!'_?

 

Whatever it was, Sam was standing still and stiff as cardboard one minute, the next he was a blur of movement as he stepped around the table, his eyes and inky black, teeth aching, grabbed the girl by the arm in a bruising grip, ignoring her cries of 'ow, you're hurting me," and pulled her off and away from Dean. He then moved to stand between the two, his back to Dean as he faced the little tramp that had dared touch what was _HIS_. Sam bared his fangs, a growl, feral and low, menacing, just like the one in his head had been left him as he looked at her and this time, he said the word he had only thought before, "Mine!"

"Sonova..." Dean started to get up.

 

Sam slowly pressed his lips together, but inky black angry eyes continued to glare daggers at the girl as she gathered her things, still rubbing the arm he had grabbed. "I think you’d better leave.... NOW!" he told her, his eyes following her as she hurried to and out the door.

Emily would have stayed, if cold eyes and animalistic teeth hadn't flashed her way. There was something about him, about all the Cullens that made people watch where they tread. "I... I have to go. See you at school, Dean," she said, quickly picking up most of her books but not bothering with the ones she didn't get. She just had to get out of there now... it's what the alarms screaming in her head were telling her.

"Awww, man, what the fuck was that about," Dean reached out and shoved Sam's back, frowning when Sam didn't stagger forward. "What are you trying to do to me, you sonovabitch?"

Sam turned in a blur of motion, grabbing Dean by the front of his jacket, slamming him bodily against the wall behind him. His face was only inches away from Dean's, black angry eyes gazing into green, teeth clenched, "I told you not to touch me," he grit out, before his eyes dropped to the pulse point at the side of Dean's throat.

 

Sam shut his eyes, tried to regain some control over the emotions, the feelings, the hunger washing over him. His teeth ached, the blood pounded in his temples.

Just for a second, Dean glimpsed that look in Sam's eyes he'd kept in his mind for so long. His cock twitched as surely as it had with Em sitting on him. His reaction was the only reason he didn't punch the hell out Sam right here, right now. He was trying to process it, understand.

 

"Shut up, don't move. Don't talk." Sam told him as he slowly opened his eyes. After another moment, he slowly released his hold on Dean's jacket and took a step back. "You should go home." Sam told him softly, not looking at him, his eyes on the floor.

"What's the matter with you? You're a fucking maniac, you know that?" He straightened his jacket, jaw set stubbornly. "I am _not_ your kid or your anything, you got that? You don't get to tell me when to study or what to do... you don't know shit about me or what I want or need. One minute you're busy ignoring me, the next you're in my business. It's got to stop... it's going to stop Sam."

 

Sam huffed softly as Dean called him a 'maniac', but remained silent, his eyes directed at the floor. He had no idea how much of a maniac he could be.

 

Dean picked up his books and stuffed them into his bag, and looked up. "Great. Now I'm hot and horny, what are you gonna do about that, _dad_?"

 

Sam slowly looked up at him, and said the only thing he could at that moment. "You should go home." This wasn't the place for them to be having this discussion, or any discussion for that matter. "I'm sorry I... 'ignored' you, there were reasons... reasons you wouldn't understand. It was... for you that I did it."

"Take your reasons and shove them up your ass. I don't care, you got that? I don't care. Go back to ignoring me, and stop.... this..." he spread his hands, "whatever this is. I'm serious. You don't like to be touched? Next time you pull something like this there'll be a lot of _touching_. Don't tell me I didn't warn you." He didn't get the feelings coursing through his body... like he needed something more from Sam, like something should happen but wouldn't. Goddamit he hated feeling unsure and that's what Sam did to him. 

 

The corner of Sam's lips quirked up slightly at Dean's threat. "You're going to..." he cleared his throat, tried not to laugh, he knew Dean was serious. "Beat me up?"

 

Dean slung his back pack over his shoulder. "I don't care _what_ you are, I can handle you... you should know that." 

Sam shook his head slightly, "No. You can't. Believe me."

"What do you want?" He spread his arms out again, demanding an answer. 

 

Sam slowly let out a breath, dark eyes scanning the area around them, but it appeared that no one was showing any interest in the two of them. His eyes returned to Dean. "It's my job to protect you. Look out for you, and I plan to do that until the day you die. Whether _you_ like it or not."

"Protect me from WHAT, sex? I had a godamned condom." He didn't care about the snickers, he wanted to know what the hell was going on here. There were all sorts of unstated emotions floating around, and secrets inside that head of Sam's. It was driving him up the wall already.

Sam pressed his lips together, "No, that... wasn't planned." He wasn't about to tell Dean that he had been unable to watch another second of someone else touching what he in his mind now, apparently viewed as his. The guy _would_ be pissed and either trying to beat his ass or run screaming from the room.

"That's it, that's the only explanation I'm getting here?" Dean's mouth tightened. "Do me a favor and protect me from FAR AWAY. Like at least a hundred feet away. And never," this time he pointed at Sam, "ever talk to me when I'm getting it on with a girl. Some things have priority," he gave him a look that any guy would recognize.

Someone at the next table laughed. "Should know better than to get between ‘All-the-way-Dean Winchester' and a girl." The others nodded and launched into discussions about him being a total horn dog. The guys were envious but the girls were looking over as if they wouldn't mind getting a piece.

Sam looked over toward the table talking smack about Dean, his lip curled, revealing sharp teeth, but he made no sound. His head snapped back around as he looked at Dean through angry narrowed eyes. "A hundred feet?" he gave a curt nod, "Fine," Sam started toward the door, stopping at the end of the table to look back at him, "I'll try to remember that the next time you run into a wendigo." With that, Sam continued toward the door.

Dean waited until the broody brunette was clear across the large club and at the door, then whispered in a low voice no human could hear from that distance. "Sam Cullen cries through sex."

Sam stopped, his back against the door as he glared back at Dean. "Wouldn't know," he called back, before pushing the door open and walking out.

A grin spread over Dean's face as he added superhuman hearing to his list of facts about Sam.  



	4. Chapter 4

Carlisle had Sam test his strength on almost unbendable metals and put his hand out against Sam's palms, asking him to push. There was definitely a great loss of strength from over five years of bleeding him and keeping him weak. "You're improving. I think you'll be at your full strength in a matter of weeks. Let me check if your skin is thickening," he said looking into Sam's eyes for permission.

Sam's eyes followed every move that Carlisle made. He hated these examinations. He understood the need and that it was because Carlisle wanted to be sure he was getting back to his old self after everything he had been through, but he still hated them.

 

Sam blew out a breath slowly, as he rubbed the palms of his hands down his jean clad thighs, his face set in hard lines. Sitting there on his settee, in his own room helped, but... just the sight of a scalpel had him wound up. Slowly, Sam nodded, before he turned his head away, offering Carlisle his arm to cut as he grit his teeth, reminding himself over and over again that it was his father doing it, not some madman.

Putting a reassuring hand on his son's shoulder, Carlisle slid it down to lift up his arm. He made only a small cut, and did it quickly. "I think your skin is starting to harden but it's going to take longer than regaining your strength." It didn't worry him because Sam still healed instantly. In fact, he healed faster than most vampires. By the time he wiped the blood away, there was no sign of the cut. Tossing the scalpel on his tray, he sat down. "How is everything. I hear that Winchester boy is giving you trouble."

The corner of Sam's lips curved upward as he rolled the sleeve of his shirt back down. "Which one told you?" he asked softly, before looking over to meet Carlisle's eyes. 

He shrugged slightly, licked his lips. "Things are... different now than they were before. Before I was drawn to him, and then there was the promise I made to his mother... but now..." Sam hung his head, "there are other feelings there," he looked back up, shook his head, "and I don't know how to deal with them."

"Hmm." Carlisle sighed. He'd heard of Dean Winchester's reputation, and knew his line of business. This was definitely a powder keg ready to blow up. "All you can do is take it a day at a time and don't ... I know you want to trust him, but you have to be careful. Even if he realizes you're not human now, you don't know what his reaction will be to learning you're a vampire." He sat back and looked at the pictures on the wall. "Unless he already knows?"

Sam followed his father's gaze, staring at the pictures too for a moment before hanging his head. "His mother knew." he told him softly.

"His mother is dead and we're not dealing with her." He was silent for a moment. "So is his father. If Dean disappeared... no one would miss him." At least that was a plus, if his son fell down this extremely slippery slope. He'd held on for so long, but with the torture he'd gone through, the toll it had taken on him, he wasn't the gentle vampire he'd been before. Like himself, Sam had been able to resist the smell of human blood before. Now, things changed.

Sam sighed as he sat forward, elbows on his knees. "One thing I know he doesn't know is how I feel about him. I think that's one of the biggest problems right now. I try to do... what I'm suppose to... and I end up doing," he shook his head, "something totally different." He thought about Gink's. "I threatened some girl the other day... it was dark, only she saw. No one will believe her, but... I did it," he looked back at his father, "because Dean was kissing her."

"Jealousy is a strong emotion. It can make you do things you'd never contemplate." He patted Sam again. "If you told him, do you think he'd be ... receptive." Carlisle knew full well that Dean was straight, but sometimes a vampire's pull of attraction was strong enough to make humans cross lines they never might.

Sam shook his head, jaw clenched. "I think he'd try to kick my ass."

Carlisle smiled. "Maybe you're not giving yourself enough credit. But you might not be ready, you'll know when and if it's time." He hated seeing Sam like this. He remembered how quickly smiles came to his lips and the days when he was the most laid back of all of them. Now he had nightmares, mood swings, and to have to fight his feelings as well... that was a tremendous amount to ask of person. "I don't want you to leave, but if it would make things easier for you..."

Sam looked at his father, at first the thought made his chest ache, thinking Carlisle wanted him gone, then the realization hit him that his father was again trying to care for him as best he could and his chest ached for an entirely different reason. He shook his head, his voice thick with emotion, "I don't have anywhere else to go."

 

Looking away, Sam cleared his throat, "And I made a promise," he added, his voice stronger. He looked back at his father and nodded, "I can do this. I can continue to watch over him, protect him, keep him safe. I just have to not... feel. I can do that. I did it for five years. I can do it again."

Carlisle shook his head. "Sam, for five years, you were kept drained of blood, tortured and weak. I don't think you could have concentrated on anything other than your own pain, even if you'd tried. It's like.... if your arm is broken, suddenly you don't feel that itch on your back." That was his theory, anyway. But there was so much Carlisle didn’t know. 

 

He had no idea how Sam bleeding on a very young Winchester so many years ago had formed that bond between Sam and the boy in the first place, but there were many mysteries in the lives of vampires. "Maybe like me... how I got used to the scent of blood and was able to stay in the medical profession, you'll get used to dealing with _his_ feelings as well as yours." He knew Sam had to concentrate to feel Dean, but the ability to force your mind away from something that was addicting was not easy.

Sam didn't argue as his father pointed out the difference between those five years and now, he tried to offer Carlisle a reassuring half smile. "Maybe."

* * *

It was almost 3 a.m. Dean had easily broken into the mortuary and was now walking past some empty caskets, flashing his light as he headed to the basement where the embalming took place. The scent of the place had him cursing as he walked down the creaking stairs, waiting to make sure no one was around. One good thing about small towns... they hardly had any security.

Pushing the door open, he saw the old woman's body lying stiff as a board on the table. He'd read the obits and had known she'd be here. Dropping his bag down, he rummaged through it for a jar and a syringe. 

 

Sam had left his house a few minutes after 2AM and had gone to Dean's only to find the Impala gone. After opening his mind up to Dean and focusing on his scent he had eventually found him here, in this mortuary. He’s stayed out of sight in the shadows and just watched him, his brows drawn in confusion as to what in the world Dean could be doing. Since when had Dean started defacing the dead?

 

Stepping out of the shadows he leaned a shoulder against the wall, arms crossed over his chest as he crossed his long legs as the ankles and tilted his head to the side. "What in the name of all that is holy _are_ you doing?"

Almost dropping the jar, Dean turned on a dime, his mind quickly working out a plausible story until he saw who was standing there. "Well if it isn't my own personal stalker. Good thing you can't scare away the dead." Promptly ignoring Sam, he turned to the cadaver and started to withdraw some blood from its body. 

Sam huffed and pulled from the wall, walking over to where Dean was. Peering over Dean's shoulder, Sam made a face. "Since when were you into the blood of dead people?" he asked him, quirking a brow. "This must be a new addiction acquired while I was away."

"Since when do you think you know all my addictions? What do you want? What made up rule of yours am I violating now?" He slid a look toward the taller student. He was still mad at him over the whole Emily thing, but he could deal with him if there were no repeats. He kept reminding himself Sam had been locked up and maybe... maybe he had some weird issues still from that.

Sam shrugged, "No rules. I was just thinking about you, wanted to check on you." He nodded toward the body, "you never answered what you were doing... or should I say _why_ you are doing it."

 

He didn't think twice about telling Sam the truth. Clearly the guy was already a part of the supernatural world. Dean had narrowed down what Sam might be to maybe 12 things he'd ever dealt with or heard about and vampire was on the list, but he'd dealt with too many to think Sam was one. For one thing, he never saw him blink to shut out light, even strong lights at school. His eyes weren't sensitive to light. For another, vampires couldn't change their eye color. "Dead man's blood. It paralyzes vampires." 

 

Sam's eyes widened slightly at the remark before his lips curled up into a full blown smile and a snicker crossed his lips. He shook his head, "No it doesn't. Where did you ever hear a stupid thing like that?"

"What? Now _you're_ a vampire expert? I'd stick to physics, if I were you," Dean snorted, emptying the syringe into the jar and stabbing the needle back into the cadaver.

Sam pressed his lips together, frowning, "I've... known," he coughed slightly, "a few vampires in my day, yeah and dude, that's not going to do anything." Sam told him shaking his head.

 

He watched Dean work, making slow progress and sighed, "You realize that's going to take you like, forever. Right?" he asked him, shifting his weight and crossing his arms over his chest. 

"You realize I'm not here to entertain you, right?" Emptying the syringe, he started to draw blood again even though he didn't need a jarful. Just enough to coat the tips of some darts and knives. "You should go home, it has to be way past your bed time."

 

Sam quirked a brow, the corner of his mouth lifting up into an almost smirk. "Insomniac. You're in luck," he teased him, knowing Dean was probably getting pissed at his being there. He couldn't exactly explain it, couldn't put his finger on how it changed, and he certainly wasn't sure it would last, but for the time being Dean was making him feel a little more grounded, more like his old self. "So, I take it you're going on a hunt? Tonight?" Sam asked him, tilting his head to the side.

"Yeah, I got tired of sitting around and filing my nails." He was tired of fucking homework too. Thank God it was Friday. Putting the syringe away, he screwed the jar shut and looked around to make sure he left nothing around. "She's all yours, if you're into that kind of thing." 

 

This time it was Dean's turn to grin as he walked past Sam and headed up the stairs. If the guy hadn't shown up around him all his life, the way he sneaked up on him now would be freaking him out. Well it was ... but only a little.

Sam frowned at the body in confusion at Dean’s last remark, before turning and following him out, slipping into the shadows as they reached the top of the stairs. He continued with vampire speed to Dean's car, leaning against the side, waiting for him there, having reached it long before Dean did, arms once again crossed over his chest, legs crossed at the ankles.

 

He watched Dean walk up and a smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "What kept you? You're awfully slow."

Sucking in his breath, Dean tried his best to hide his surprise. Nothing should surprise him anymore, but Sam did... all the time. "I was carrying shit," he raised his bag, then dropped it next to his car. Opening the trunk, he brought out the weapons he'd prepared, putting them on the now closed trunk. His gaze flicked to Sam. "Somebody up your meds? You're in a good mood for once."

Sam quirked a brow, "Am I?" he huffed softly, "Must be the company I keep." He turned toward Dean leaning his side against the car. "So, how are we going to do this? This little Vampire hunt?"

"WE? There's no 'we' Sam. You're going home, and I'm doing this alone, the way I always..." he stumbled over that, suddenly missing his dad more than ever. He cleared his throat, "... it's a hunter thing."

Sam tilted his head as he studied the look on Dean's face, his own dropping in response. "They were always proud of you, you know." Sam said softly, before clearing his throat and pulling to his full height, arms falling to his sides. "I am going with you." he told Dean as he walked toward him, stepping close, but not _too_ close before glancing toward the trunk, "because you are SO going to need me," he nodded at the trunk, "nothing you have there is going to even dent a vampire." He looked back at Dean, golden hazel meeting green, "but I can, will, for you."

Dean shook his head. "You want to tell me why it is one minute you're trying to make my life miserable, and the next you go all mother hen? Your mood swings are killing me." Closing the jar again, he opened the trunk one last time, tossing everything he didn't need inside and taking the necessities in his bag. Rubbing his eyes, he faced Sam and waited on his answer.

Sam shook his head, "Not trying to make your life miserable, Dean. I've never tried to do that." He hung his head for a moment as he thought back to before he was taken, to the way he used to be. "I wasn't always... moody," he told him softly before looking up, "I guess you're gonna just have to forgive me for that. I have a lot weighing on me nowadays."

Giving a noncommittal grunt, Dean walked around to the driver's side. "See you Monday. Opening the back door, he tossed his bag in, then got into the car and started it. 

Sam sighed and turned, watching as Dean got into his car, starting it. _Stubborn ass._

 

Reaching low, Sam grabbed the bumper of the Impala with one hand, lifting the end of the car up and off the ground.

As the wheels spun, Dean shouted, "What the fuck. Dammit." Shutting the car off, he waited until Sam set it down, then he walked out and got in his face. "You broke my window, I boarded it up. You wreck my car? I will fucking kill you. You got that?" He meant it too, it was really the one thing he had from his dad. That and the leather jacket he was wearing. "I am _not_ kidding, Sam." He was furious. More than furious.

Sam shook his head just slightly, "You _can't_ kill me. And I didn't...." he paused, wanted to be able to deny the other accusation, but unable to lie, so he ignored it instead, "wreck your car."

 

He took a step closer to Dean, they were toe to toe, only a hair between them, "Let me buy you a new one. I'll replace your window. Hell, I'll buy you a fucking house if you want it."

Dean gritted his teeth. "My _dad_ gave me that car. There is nothing... nothing that can replace it, not one of your fancy cars, nothing." And why the hell was he offering to buy him stuff? "Sorry my house isn't good enough... maybe if you stayed out of it," he spread his hands. "Not everything is about money. Now leave me the hell alone? I have work to do, and _other_ people to save." He was breathing hard, his chest rising and falling. How could this guy push all his buttons and get him angry in three seconds flat?

Sam stood there listening to Dean yell at him, his mood was darkening but there was something else, something he wasn't sure what to call it that lurked under it all as his eyes narrowed and his hand snaked out, quicker than any human could have reacted to, and grabbed the front of Dean's jacket, yanking him forward until his lips met Sam's.

 

It was just a meeting of lips, nothing more, but it sent heat, electricity though Sam, that had him shoving Dean away for his own safety after only a few seconds. The feel of those soft full lips under his was more than he had counted on, better than he had imagined.

 

Sam stood sucking in air as though he were a human who had just run a race. He closed his eyes. His teeth ached, his eyes had darkened, the blood was pounding at his temples. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to..." he shook his head, slowly opening his eyes to look at Dean. "I know. I didn't mean anything hurtful, I just --" he shook his head, licked his lips, still tasting Dean there and stifled a moan. _FUCK!_

"Ahhh..." Dean had his hand over his burning mouth, not quite wiping, but stunned. He blinked, struggling to find answers, trying to get all of the conflicting emotions battling inside him under control. He licked his lips and let his air out. "You saw Get Smart," he nodded, lips pressed together as he convinced himself. "He used this... this technique as a way of shutting someone up, stunning him. Okay... okay, it worked." He backed up to the open door. "I... just don't grab my car, alright? It’s my baby." He let out a heavy breath.

Sam's jaw clenched, nostrils flaring as he looked at Dean, watched him. "What is a 'Get smart'?" Sam asked him, "I don't watch much TV." He took a step closer to where Dean had scurried back to and held a hand out for a second before letting it drop. "Let me..." he sighed, "let me help you with this, so... so I don't worry. I promise not to ever do that again... please."

"I don't have a choice, do I?" Instinctively, he knew Sam would grab the car again, or follow him, or do whatever it took. "Get in." He closed his eyes for a second, "and try not to confuse me anymore. This sucks hardcore, man." Dropping into the driver's seat, he told himself he wasn't going to think about it anymore, the kiss. Later he'd try to work out what happened. Yeah, he'd always had certain thoughts and feeling about Sam, but not really 'about Sam'. It had been about that look in his eyes all those years ago, hadn't it? Pulling the door shut and started the car.

Sam sat in the passenger seat, feeling more self-conscious than he ever had in his life. He'd never been in the passenger seat of _any_ car, well, okay Alice's once, around the block, before he had made her switch and let him drive. He had just _kissed_ a straight guy, one that _obviously_ had NO feelings for him AT ALL. And he wasn't even sure why or where they were going.

 

Smooth thinkin', Sam. Yeah, Emmett would be having a field day with this about now. Clearing his throat, Sam looked over at Dean, trying to keep as far away from him and close to the door as possible, "So, uh, _why_ exactly is it you're going to try to kill these vampire's?" 

There was a short silence as Dean continued to struggle with conflicting feelings. He licked his lips and looked over at Sam, trying to find answers in his eyes... but there were none. None that he could see, and he couldn't even formulate the questions. "It's always the same reason. They hurt or kill people. Someone has to help the victims the cops don't know about." Turning onto the highway, he stepped on the gas pedal, ignoring the way Sam tensed at his driving. Why should only one of them be tense?

Listening to Dean's reasoning Sam tensed as he wondered if Dean felt that way about all vampire's or if he had proof that these were a bad bunch. "So, you _know_ that these vampires are, uh, hurting people?" Sam asked him cautiously, glancing from Dean out the window and back. He shrugged, "I mean, because, if not, then, just because they're vampires, it doesn't mean... I mean, not everything non-human is 'bad'."

"You're right. Some non-humans are just damned annoying." It was probably bad form to laugh at your own joke, but it relieved some of his stress. "Don't tell me you're a card carrying member of some 'save the vampires' group. They're evil." He concentrated on the road for a moment, making sure to turn off onto an unmarked dirt road, looking out the window until he saw the barn in a distance. He cut the lights and hoped to hell the vamps were sleeping, it was close to dawn anyway. "People are missing. Bodies are turning up without a drop of blood. You do the math."

Dean's words about vampire's being evil, had Sam turning his head away and looking out the side window, jaw clenched. He had a lot to think about later. Maybe Carlisle was right. Maybe he needed to go somewhere else. Away from his family to keep them safe, if that was how Dean felt about all vampires.

 

Sam's head was spinning with thoughts, trying to figure out what to do next, how to keep his family safe and still do what he had promised Dean's mother when Dean spoke again. 

Lips still pressed together in a firm line as he gave a curt nod, then turned his gaze away again. He had nothing else to say, nothing he wanted to say. Not anymore. He'd do this, help Dean make it out okay, and then he needed to think... away from Dean distracting him.

 

Clearing his throat and frowning slightly, Sam looked back at Dean, "So, what's your plan? Just barge on in there and start massacring vampire families?" he looked away, reached for his door handle and opened it, sliding from the seat and closing the door after himself. Whatever. He couldn't sit in there with him anymore.

"Shshsh, sharp hearing." Grabbing his bag, he went around to Sam's side. "You're not going in there. I can't be worrying about you and fighting them. If they don't realize you're with me, they probably won't bother with you." He gave the non-human a pointed look. 

Sam quirked a brow at Dean, "Sharp hearing, huh?" he nodded, "what else?" he pretended like he didn't know as he inched along beside Dean.

"Strong. Real strong. And the teeth thing... you know?" he gave a half shrug.

Sam shook his head, "Teeth? Really? Like, are they sharp and pointy?" Sam barely hid his smirk.

"Well yeah... _vampire._ " Giving Sam a 'what the fuck do you think' look, Dean started to head toward the barn. He wasn't even a little surprised when Sam didn't stay put. "Nails are as strong as... nails. Tricky too. Oh, really good sense of smell. Oh man, if any of them are awake, they're smelling cookies by now."

Sam smirked and shook his head, "They're not smelling me, but they'd smell you, and they'd hear that loud ass car of yours from three miles back," he chuckled, "I can usually hear it from over five."

Dean looked up at the lightening sky. "They sleep before dawn. Damn, I should have brought mirrors. Alright, here..." he got a machete for Sam, and a smaller dagger. "That one will paralyze. With this, head off. It's the only way. Stay behind me if you can." If there were any way he could have talked Sam out of it, he would have. But he knew it was useless.

 

Sam glanced up at the sky as Dean did, noting the sunlight that was threatening to break through the clouds. SHIT. A sunny day in the Forks area. Of course it would be today, when he had things he was doing _outside_ , out in the open... with Dean.

 

Tearing his gaze from the lightening sky to look at Dean, Sam took the weapons he handed him. Not because he needed them, but Dean obviously wasn't getting the hints that he could handle this, so Sam decided to play along, make Dean happy for now. After all, if he said too much, he might just find himself on Dean's hunted list.

 

Quietly, Dean pulled the barn door open, his heart racing as his adrenalin kicked in. Once inside, he held the machete in one hand and a tube to blow the poisoned darts in another. Slowly he made his way around a wooden post, and saw a girl chained to it. Her throat had been ripped pretty good and she was half dead already. His nostrils flared, and he looked over at Sam. What if he'd been here a half hour earlier, or an hour... could he have saved her?

Entering the barn, Sam didn't even need to look very hard to know where the vampires were. But, there was something different about them, what exactly, he couldn't put his finger on. The smell of the girl's blood drew Sam's attention away from any further thought as he turned his head away, much like a person would who was about to get sick, as his eyes darkened again, his teeth starting to ache once more.

As they moved in farther, Dean pointed out tangled limbs on a haystack, and then another set on a mattress on the ground. He looked up and saw a ladder, pointing that out too, in case anything decided to jump down from there. Moving to the animal stalls, he pushed a door open and made a face. The entire ground was blood stained, and bodies were strewn around like rag dolls. These were some bad ass vamps, and he was going to end them here and now. Preparing for the fight, he started to head back.

 

Jaw set in a firm line at the carnage they had seen, Sam went to the closest vampire and dropped the weapons Dean had given him onto the ground, grabbing the vampire's arm, he pulled him up to his feet, shaking him awake. "You aren't supposed to hurt humans. What is wrong with you!?"

"What the fuck, Sam!" Rushing toward the idiot, Dean put the tube to his mouth and aimed the dart at the vampire who'd been laying next to the one Sam dragged to its feet.

All signs of sleep cleared from Stephen's blood shot eyes. "We've got company," he announced, almost gleefully, frowning at Sam, but turning to look at Dean. The other vampires started to stir.

 

Sam's eyes darkened as he bared his fangs, "Touch him and you die." he hissed, before glancing over his shoulder toward the girl’s body still hanging, "Why?" he asked him as he looked back.

"Because we can, and it's fun. Join us, he smells good... if he tastes half as good," Stephen bared his own fangs. "Now!"

Dean loudly cursed Sam for taking away the element of surprise. What the hell did he think he was doing lecturing vamps. The invitation... that sent a chill down his back, but he had no time to think on it. Aiming his darts, he started to nail as many of them as he could.

 

Sam growled low and loud, as he released the vampire’s shirt, then moved with blurring speed, grabbing his head in both hands and twisted hard. The vampire's head head came off his shoulders in Sam's hands, as the body dropped to the floor. "He's too good for you." Sam muttered, dropping the head, before crouching in an attack position, teeth bared, a feral growl escaping him, eyes inky black as he stepped back slightly to stand in between Dean and the other vampire's.

Seeing the bloody mess, Dean stepped away from the spurting blood. "Now that's gonna be some big laundry bill," he said, trying to cover his surprise. Damn... not even his dad had ever torn a head off like that. "Guess that means you're out of the 'save the vamps' club now." Shoving Sam and moving past him, he launched himself at the vampires. There were four of them, two of them paralyzed by the dead man's blood. He tried shooting a dart at a third, but the vampire was too quick and they were in hand to hand combat.

"Sonova..." Dean kicked the center of its body with the flat of his foot, "bitch." Blows were exchanged, and he was just waiting for the moment when he could trap the guy in a headlock, using the machete. 

One of the women vampires had moved down the ladder and was trying to make soothing sounds to Sam, as she walked toward him, a smile stretched across her blood stained lips. Sam waited until she was close enough, then reached out and twisted her arm behind her back. "You should have followed someone else," he hissed out as he continued the pressure until the bone popped and snapped. He went for her head then, tearing it from her shoulders in the same manor he had the first, glancing toward Dean after he had finished to be sure he was still alright.

They were done much faster than Dean anticipated... much faster. The permanently dead vampires lay on the ground now, headless. Breathing hard, Dean wiped his bloody hands on his jeans and stole a glance at Sam. He knew the guy had held back. What was he? He licked his lips, the question dying on his lips as he went to check the chained girl. 

 

Her eyes were open now, a smile played on her lips as she thanked him. "She's... Sam, call 911," he said, forgetting everything as he leaned over to pick the lock on the chains that held her.

 

Frowning, Sam started over toward Dean. The girl was alive? There was no way.... As Sam drew closer, his eyes widened, as her scent hit him like a kick to stomach. "Dean! No!"

"Hmm?" The chain rattled to the ground and just as he turned, the girl he'd 'saved' bared her fangs and attacked him. He felt something tear into his side... her nails? Cursing, he backhanded her. If he'd expected she would fall, he was mistaken. She was back on him and he'd set his weapons down. Grabbing her hair, he raised his knee and brought her head down on it hard. A human would have blacked out, but she wasn't human.

With a growl, Sam ran toward them, colliding with the girl hard, so hard that they both went through the side of the barn, landing outside in the dry grass. Rolling as teeth and nails sliced and then Sam had her head off in one quick movement and it was over.

 

Picking himself up from the ground, Sam turned around, going back to check on Dean, berating himself the entire way. He should have been more careful, he should have warned him, should have known, and should have done something sooner...

Dean had seen enough to know Sam could handle the girl. No, he'd seen enough to know that Sam was dangerous. Dangerous like himself, if you were playing on the wrong side. Sam was also a bit naive, trying to lecture to vampires of all things. And he was... Dean let out a soft sigh as he acknowledged the thought... Sam was very vampire-like. 

By the time Sam returned, Dean was pouring gasoline around. Ordinarily he would bury the bodies but there were too many. The barn was isolated, and there was no brush or plant life around it so there was no fear of spreading fire. This was the best solution.

Sam glanced at Dean from the door, saw the crimson stain on his shirt and grimaced, "Are you... alright?" he sighed, "I should have known. Said something... sooner. I'm sorry."

"Sorry about what? You fucking nuts? How are you supposed to tell if I couldn't." Walking backwards toward Sam, he said, "Stand back" and striking a match, he tossed it into the middle of the barn. Outside, he saw that the last body was close enough to be burned with the rest without having to toss it inside.

They headed to the Impala at a dead run, and got inside. Dean was grinning as he made a u-turn and roared away. "Now tell me that doesn't feel good," he looked over at Sam who was plastered against the door, and frowned. "What?"

As soon as they had gotten in the small confines of the car, Dean's scent, the scent of his blood had hit Sam so strong he thought he was going to totally lose it and just take. Take and take. Oh god...

 

He smashed himself as far away from Dean as he possibly could up against the door, his eyes an inky black, his teeth aching, blood pounding in his temples so strong he could hardly hear, think of anything else. Just the scent of that blood and the thought of possessing, of leaning over and plastering Dean against his door and taking what he wanted.

 

Sam turned his head, facing away from Dean, "Nothing." he told him softly, trying his hardest not to breathe.

"What nothing, it's something. Sam?" Getting no answer, Dean's jaw tightened. There he went again, with his weird moods. He tried once or twice to engage him in conversation, then gave up and turned his music on loud. The way he was acting, Sam better not fucking complain.

The trip back was way more awkward than the trip to the barn. It should have been the reverse, so Dean couldn't wrap his mind around this. Slamming his brakes on when they were at the mortuary, and next to Sam's car, he didn't say a thing, didn't even look at Sam. 

 

Sam quickly opened his door, nearly falling out of it, then closed it behind him, not uttering a word as he hurried to his own car, the new key lock beeping as he neared it.

He was inside in seconds and breathing a sigh of relief. He needed to feed, that's what he needed to do. Once he did that, he could go to Dean's and make sure he was okay.

 

Starting the car and throwing it into gear, Sam's tires spun as he took off out of there at breakneck speed.

"Sonova..." Dean didn't know what to make of Sam, and he hated that. Taking off after Sam's car, he turned toward his part of town. By the time he got inside his house and was upstairs, it was full on morning. He'd almost gotten away with no injuries. Almost. Peeling his jacket, long sleeved shirt, and his tee shirt off in turn, he walked to the bathroom to look at the damage to his side. Dammit, he'd need to stitch himself up.

Washing up first, he got the surgical thread and went to sit on his bed. Gritting his teeth, he forced the needle through his skin and pulled the thread through. Taking a breath, he repeated, again and again, his stitches quite small and neat. 

Sam reached Dean's house a few moments after he had finished feeding, feeling much more like himself. Leaping up to the window of Dean's room, Sam frowned at the boards covering the window before he began knocking them down with the heel of his hand.

 

Once they were all down, he looked over at where Dean was glaring at him. "I can't protect you, if I can't _see_ you." Frowning, he tilted his head to the side before gracefully jumping inside, "What are you doing?"

"Needlework. What the fuck you think I'm doing? And Sam... that is not my door, dammit."

He ignored the door comment, eyes focused on the wound on Dean's side as he walked toward him, "Okay, _why_ are you doing it?" he asked him instead.

"For someone who's smart you're acting like a dingbat. I'm cut. It's deep." Gritting his teeth, he passed the needle through his skin again cursing softly under his breath. The closer he got to his ribs, the more it hurt.

 

Sam's hands clenched into fists at his sides, his jaw clenched as he watched. "Stop it! Just stop it already! You're hurting yourself!" he all but yelled at him, before moving quickly to shove Dean back onto the bed, grabbing the knife off the nightstand as he did.

 

Sam straddled Dean's hips and brought the knife across his own wrist, pausing only for the span of a blink before slicing deep. He grabbed Dean's wrists, holding them with one hand above Dean's head as he squirmed. Sam brought his bleeding wrist to Dean's side, letting his blood run down onto and into Dean's wound.

"That's just... what the fuck?! Sam?!" Thinking Sam had gone nuts, which wasn't a stretch when he thought about what he'd been through under the scalpel of those lunatic doctors, Dean panicked and started kicking and trying to free himself.

 

Sam's head turned as he glared back at Dean, "Would you hold still!? You made it a lot easier to do this when you were little!" he looked back at what he was doing, making sure he bled enough to cover the entire wound before his own wound healed away completely. 

 

He moved then, pulling off Dean and leaning over him, "Just hold still... and wait." he told him, as he slowly released his wrists.

 

"Damn you," Dean jackknifed off the bed, bending to pick up the revolver under it. Chest heaving, he aimed it at Sam, hand shaking only slightly. "I know you've got problems. Go get help. Go." 

 

Sam's eyes moved from Dean's face to his side and the corner of his mouth turned up slightly, "I have problems, but you don't," he told him, nodding toward his side.

Following Sam's gaze, Dean looked down. Under smeared blood, there was no sign of a wound. None. The surgical thread had fallen to the ground, as if rejected by his body. Picking up a tee shirt, he wiped over his side, then looked up at Sam, locking gazes with him. 

 

It all came rushing back. Everything had been black. Then he'd opened his eyes and seen the stranger bleeding over him. He'd been too afraid to scream or to say anything. Or maybe he hadn't been afraid, he really couldn't remember what parts were memory and what parts of what happened when he was about six years old he was filling in with fiction.

 

He opened his mouth and licked his dry lips. "I remember."

Sam quirked a brow as he looked at him, "Do you? Tell me. I re-live it everyday."

He sat down on the bed, and dropped the gun. "I don't understand any of this. What are you? Why are you... why would you save _me?_ "

 

"Does it really matter _what_ I am?" Sam sighed, as he started to walk away, "Some call me demon, some," he turned back around to face Dean a small sad smile on his face, "call me angel." He shook his head, "it doesn't matter which you think I am." He ran a hand through his hair, "I was drawn to you. Long ago, when you were very little... and then I made a promise... and I will forever keep that promise," he smiled slightly, "I promised to protect you."

"You're not a demon, I checked." He gave Sam a long stare. "You're not an angel either, unless you're fallen," he snorted. "Who did you promise?" He cocked his head, needing answers.

Sam closed his eyes, exhaled slowly and opened them. "I promised..." he sucked his bottom lip into his mouth as he thought about lying, but dismissed it, "your mother."

"Mom?" Dean whispered so low that you'd have to have superhuman hearing. "Did you know her?" Seeing Sam shaking his head 'no,' his fingers clenched around the blanket. "Then why? Why would she even trust you?" His parents were hunters. His grandparents were hunters. He didn't see them easily accepting someone who wasn't human. "Don't lie to me," he warned. "I want... I need to know."

Sam licked his lips, "I have never lied to you." he told him softly, before running his hand through his hair again, looking downward, "Your mother told me something about a psychic," he glanced up at Dean, looking for the truth of that in his face, but seeing no answers, he dropped his gaze and continued, "She said she was told that I would save you, that you would be alone. She knew she would die, that your father would die..." he looked up, "that you would be alone."

 

"Missouri..." Or it could be some other psychic. He felt a lump rise in his throat. "Why didn't you save _her_? Why me and not her?" Things could have been so different. They'd been happy, so happy in Kansas. "She was in pain. You were there. I remember that too," he said, accusation creeping into his tone.

 

Sam nodded, "I was there. I held her hand as she took her last breath." he looked at Dean and shook his head, "I'm sorry. I tried, but... it didn't work."

"You just healed me, with your blood. Then, and now. Those people who had you, they were taking your blood for its healing properties. What do you mean you couldn't save _her?!_ " Dean stood up and paced away. It wasn't fair. He didn't deserve life more than his mother. Sam could have saved her... he could have.

"Dean...sometimes it just doesn't work. I'm sorry. I tried I did everything I could, I swear it." Before he’d turned into a vampire, he’d healed disease just by touch. But as a vampire, it was his blood that seemed to have healing powers, and it worked on wounds.

Dean nodded his head, his throat felt raw and he couldn't ask anything else about his mother or he was risking breaking down and crying. He wasn't six anymore, and there was no way he wanted Sam or anyone else to see that. He nodded again, trying to believe, to understand, to process. He tried to calm down, to not get more agitated, to not think of what might have been.

Striding back to the bed, Dean started going through his dad's journal. Back and forth, he flipped the pages fast, his motions jerky.

Sam frowned as he watched Dean flipping through an old journal suddenly. And he said _he_ was moody. One minute they had been talking about his mother and now he was angrily going to _read_? "What are you doing!?" Sam jutted his chin toward the journal in Dean's hands, "What is that?"

 

"I'm trying to find out what moves faster than a vampire. Strong. Sharp hearing. And has blood that heals. I want to know what you are, and if you won't tell me, I'll find out. I will." He didn't even look up from the book.

The frown slowly slid from Sam's face as he sighed and stepped over to Dean, grabbing the journal in his hands, but not taking it, only stopping him from looking further. "You won't find it in there," he shrugged, "well, if you did, you wouldn't realize it." he released the journal and took a step back. "Sit?" Sam nodded toward the bed as he stepped away and started to pace.

 

"My father and I were just talking about you finding this out." the corner of Sam’s mouth lifted in a wry smile as he stopped pacing, "funny how parents always seem to be right, no matter how old you get." He started to pace again.

Dean's eyes tracked Sam back and forth. This was it, he was gonna know the truth.

"Those things that we killed tonight," he paused, looking toward the floor, head hanging as he frowned thoughtfully. "I've never known anything like them. They acted like vampires, but," he stopped pacing, looking directly at Dean, "When I tore their heads off, when I fought them, I held back and it was as though they were made of tissue paper."

"Tissue paper." He wished Sam would just spit it out. This was killing him.

 

"But the things they said to me, what they had done... it was all very vampire-like." he frowned harder, shook his head. "What I want to know is what _they_ were." Sam paused, lips pressed together. "And my blood is special," he shook his head, "it's not like any others of my kind."

"They were vampire-like because they're vampires, I know that... I told you. Now you tell me something new. Tell me what you are, I think I have a right to know. Goddamit, I do have the right to know." He was getting frustrated again, mostly because of stuff that had been stirred up when they talked about his mother.

 

Sam huffed, shook his head, "They were like no vampire I know... and I know six of them on a daily basis." he gave Dean a pointed look, waiting.

Dean opened his mouth to argue, snapped it shut, and then opened it again. He got up and approached Sam while he found his voice, looking him over as if he'd never seen him before. "Vampires don't smell like cookies... like you." He walked around Sam, in his mind’s eye thinking of how strong he was... the glimpses of him fighting, of tearing heads off with his bare hands. He stopped in front of him. "Do you have ..." he flashed his own teeth. "Fangs."

Sam quirked a brow, it wasn't exactly the reaction, the question, he had expected. The corner of his mouth lifted in a small smirk. "And I drink blood too," he licked his lips, "Animal blood, not human," he quickly added and shook his head, frowning again, "I don't understand how, _why_ those vampires... in their own town." he huffed and looked back at Dean, "Surely that's not the most burning question you have. The welfare of my teeth."

So there were different types of vampires, that was becoming clear to him even as he stared at Sam's mouth. "Let me see, Sam."

Sam jaw clenched, muscle twitching, eyes darkening just a shade. "You want to see _my teeth_!? Jesus, Dean! There are a million things I imagined you'd say, do, but not one involved you wanting to look at my fucking fangs! Why? Why the hell do you want to see them?"

"Why don't you want to show them to me?" Dean crossed his arms. "I'm curious. And maybe it would make this... real?"

Sam narrowed his eyes at Dean, arms crossing over his own chest. "Fine." He curled his lip back, bared his teeth, his fangs, his eyes never leaving Dean's face, waiting for the revulsion he knew would be there.

Dean cocked his head. Yup. Perfectly straight teeth framed by slightly longer teeth. Without asking, he slid his index finger into Sam's mouth and felt his fang. "Okay then..." he pulled his finger away. "Vampire," he nodded, then met Sam's eyes again. "Why do you do that? Make your eyes go dark? What does it mean?"

As soon as Dean's finger hit his fangs, Sam's eyes darkened to an inky black and he had to fight not to bite down, to drawn blood and then continue to take, take what he had wanted for so long.

 

When Dean pulled his finger away, as if what he had done was nothing, like petting some docile stray dog, Sam nearly growled, his hand snaking out to grab Dean's arm in a vise like grip. "Don't _ever_ do that again. Ever." he slowly exhaled and released Dean's arm, "Do you pet sharks too or play with rattlesnakes?" he huffed and shook his head.

Dean looked where Sam had grabbed him, and stepped away slightly. 

 

Sam's mouth opened, then closed at Dean's question, his eyes narrowed. "I don't _make_ my eyes darken, it's a reaction... to 'emotions'."

"Like a freakin' mood ring?" He grinned. "Green means good to go, black means...?" Hungry, needy... something. Dean didn't even need an answer, he knew it in his gut. And why the hell was his own body reacting to that, hardening? 

Sam's voice dropped to a deadly whisper, "It means stay the hell away." He clenched his jaw, fought to think about something else, to focus on something other than Dean's bare skin, his scent, the fact that he suddenly was noticing the sound of Dean's blood pumping through his veins.

 

Sam turned away from him, walking over toward the open window, head bowed as he breathed deeply the fresh air coming in, eyes closed. "Only _you._.. I don't have this problem with others..." Sam slowly lifted his head, opened his eyes, "I was always the 'gentle one', the one who didn't react to the smell, the scent... except yours."

"Except me, what? You didn't... " Dean tensed and thought back through the years. No, he didn't remember Sam ever hurting him, ever taking anything from him. Unless he had the power to trance?

Sam shook his head slowly, "No. I never did. I fought against it... with everything in me I fought. The night... in the desert... I wanted you then, wanted your blood, wanted to take and take," he hung his head, "But then I heard _her_ voice in my head and I ran."

Dean's gut clenched. Desert eyes... they'd haunted him for so fucking long. He took a shuddering breath, glad _his_ eyes weren't a mood ring. "I remember," he nodded, backing away to go sit on the bed. "Guess I should thank you, for not... you know. And before that, for talking to me when my mom died," he forced the word out. "But about that Wendigo you saved me from," his eyes flashed, "that makes us even."

Sam clenched his jaw, Dean shouldn't be thanking him. He should be thanking his mother. If he weren't for her... he had been so close to giving in. He huffed and tilted his head to the side, "Are we? What about all the other times? The times when things were going so wrong, only to suddenly go right... the beast, the creature, whatever, suddenly being maimed, or simply finding it dead." he quirked a brow, "You think you just have that much good luck?"

Dean stiffened. Other times... Yeah, he'd had a lot of close calls, trying to impress his dad who'd grown a lot harder once Mary was gone. Sometimes he'd risked himself in ways even his dad wouldn't have wanted him to, and so many times... they'd both been surprised when he came out of some situation without a scrape. "Guess not," he conceded. "I think I liked you better back then. You were NOT this moody." Not that he'd known ... really known Sam, but he liked getting the last word.

 

"Yeah... me too." Sam agreed, eyes on Deans face, watching him closely. His eyes had lightened now, closer to his true shade of golden hazel, but he didn't risk leaving the safety of the window. "Guess after five years, even the best... of us, get moody."

"Who me? You've got to be fucking kidding me. I'm not moody." He looked at Sam as if he was on drugs. Then he noticed something and squinted. Was he hallucinating due to lack of sleep? 

 

Sam opened his mouth, ready to tell him that he had actually been talking about himself, but that now that he had bought it up... it wasn't like Dean was Mr. Sunshine all the time. The guy _was_ nearly as moody as he was.

 

But then his cell rang interrupting his thoughts, what he was going to say. Sam reached into his pocket, pulling it out and flipped it open. "Yeah?" he smiled, a genuine smile, dimples showing, "Hello, Alice." he glanced at Dean, "Yes, I'm aware and yes I am," he sighed, "He knows. No he hasn't seen, not yet." He glanced again at Dean, "Well, he isn't running from the room screaming." Sam nodded to her words even though she couldn't see it. "I will, I'll be home soon. Love you too. Bye." Sam flipped his cell closed and stuffed it back into his pocket, his eyes on Dean. "Sorry, worried older sister."

"Ah... Sam, turn around... just a little." He looked at the broken window, and back at Sam standing close to where the sunlight was streaming in. A sunny day in Forks... and here he was ready to sleep it away.

Sam stiffened as he looked at Dean, followed his gaze to the sun beam shining on his arm, the glittering skin there, where he had pushed his long sleeve shirt up, where it was folded back and his forearm showed. Shit. Sam looked back at Dean, took a side step away from the window, out of the sun, jaw clenched, body ridged.

"No, the other way. Toward the window, move to it. And what haven't I seen? You got a tail or something?" he joked, but his eyes were laser focused on Sam, willing him to get into the sunlight.

Sam looked toward the window with something akin to fear in his eyes before looking back at Dean, "No. Something worse," he shook his head, "I don't want you to see. Not now, not yet. I..." Sam paused, licked his lips, glancing back toward the window, the beam of sunlight. He shouldn't have come back here after feeding, he should have gone home, hidden away like the rest of his family. When the sun was out, they couldn't hide what they were. Instead, he had been worried about Dean, about what the vampire girl had done, had wanted to see him, to know that he was alright. Dammit to hell. He looked back at Dean clenched his jaw, "Don't ask me to step back there."

Dean got up and walked to him. "What are you scared of?" He put his hand on Sam's chest and gently pushed him. Don't touch, right... well Sam had touched him last night, so he could touch him right back. The hard, well defined muscles quivering slightly under his palm had him swallowing. "Turn. Let me see, Sam."

 

Sam's eyes shot to Dean's hand on his chest, didn't miss the fact that he was touching him, nor did he miss the fact of how good it felt, the way the warmth of his hand seemed to burn through his shirt to his skin. His muscles quivered at the feel, the touch. The only reason he wasn't having any stronger reactions was due to the fact there were other things to think about right now. Dean might know he was a vampire, might have seen his fangs, but once the sun hit him, he would see _him_ , how he truly looked. See the monster that the clouds hid.

 

When Sam planted his feet, he was immovable. As though he were cemented in place. Jaw clenched, his mouth in a thin line as he looked at Dean, he shook his head slowly. "In the sun, I can't hide what I am. The way I really look... I - I don't want you to see." Golden hazel eyes searched Dean's face, "I don't want you to see me..." _I can't bear to see the revulsion on your face when you look at me._ His voice dropped to a near broken whisper, "please."

The panic in Sam's eyes confused Dean, as did his plea. Something shifted inside him at the thought that someone as powerful as Sam could also be this vulnerable. "I need to." He licked his lips, never flinching from Sam's gaze. "You're here _all_ the time, I deserve to know the truth." He pushed again, adding, "I've seen more than most. I doubt you could shock me."

Pain twisted in Sam's chest as he bit his lip, closed his eyes and took one heavy step toward the window, then another, until he was standing directly in the sunlight that shone into the room. There were too many feelings, too many emotions for this guy who was asking to see him in the sunlight for Sam to deny him. He use to think of himself as Dean's angel, had wanted to believe it, even if down deep he knew he was just a monster. With Dean asking him now, he gave in. God help him, he gave in.

 

Every patch of skin that showed, that his shirt didn't cover, his face, his hands, glittered in the bright sunlight as he stood there, eyes squeezed tightly closed, his bottom lip caught between straight white teeth. A soft sound escaped Sam, almost a whimper, before he released his lip, his mouth opening just slightly as he took in a breath, "Happy now that you see the _monster_ that looks in on you?" Sam asked him, keeping his eyes closed against the revulsion he _knew_ he would see on Dean's face.

A rare thing happened. For a moment, Dean was struck dumb. His gaze traveled up and down Sam's face, to his throat and hands, and he started to smile. When he looked back up and found Sam looking nervous as hell and with his eyes screwed shut, he knew for sure the guy had lots of things backwards. 

 

"Dude," he slapped Sam's shoulder, "THAT is NOT how monsters look. You look... well... you're... _pretty_." He laughed at that, but it was true. "Like you rolled around in glitter or someone dumped fairy dust over you."

Sam slowly opened his eyes and looked at Dean frowning. "I am not... _pretty_." He frowned harder, "glitter?" He looked away then, out the window and shook his head, "You aren't disgusted... appalled at the monster you see before you?" he asked him, voice tight.

"You've got to be kidding me, Sam. What's disgusting about glitter." He snorted. "I don't get it, you had no second thoughts showing me you can rip a guys head off with your bare hands, but this... this you think ... yeah I don't get it. You're fine. You look great, really. Pretty," he insisted for good measure, and moved quickly away, trying not to wonder how Sam would look if he were shirtless in the sun, or naked. "Like art." He was thinking of the Greek and Roman statues, only shinier and with arms and other unbroken bits.

Sam looked back at him, golden hazel eyes studying Dean's face for the lie he was sure he was telling, but saw nothing. He cleared his throat, head hanging, "Can I, uh, move now?" he asked, lifting his head, to look at Dean from under his brows. 

 

Sam wasted no time in stepping away from the window, away from the sunlight that revealed too much. "Alice asked why I wasn't home today..." he shrugged, nodded his head toward the window, "with the sun and all. We don't... go...out in the sun," he looked at Dean, golden hazel meeting green, "ever. It was what she wanted to know -- if you had seen yet," he cleared his throat, looked away.

"You didn't tell her you were out hunting," Dean pointed out, suddenly yawning now that he had all his questions answered. "I gotta get some sleep." He headed for the bed. "If you don't want to go outside, you can crash here. There's another bedroom across the hall," he offered. Smart Winchester... allowing a vampire to skulk around the house while you're asleep, but it wasn't like he'd been able to stop Sam from doing that before.

Sam shook his head at Dean's remark about not telling Alice about hunting 'vampires'. No that was a conversation he felt was better had face to face. His father wouldn't be too pleased probably. Not because of _what_ he had done, but because Sam was not back to being 100% yet. 

 

Sam nodded, backing toward the wall next to the window and slowly sliding down it to sit on the floor, leg's bent, wrists on his knees, he waved Dean toward his bed as he looked up at him and shook his head, the corner of his lips turning up slightly. "Go head. I'll be right here. I won't move at all." He shook his head slightly as he laid it back against the wall, "Don't sleep. It's okay. I'll watch over you while you do."

"Huh? No... that's just weird, being watched when you're asleep, seriously." He cleared his throat, and looking at Sam sitting on the ground just knew the guy was gonna give him trouble. "Can you at least watch t.v. or something?" He was ready to move to the other room if he had to, but he didn't really like the idea of sleeping on his dad's bed.

Sam quirked a brow at Dean, his lips curving upward a bit more. "I watch you sleep all the time." His smile slowly fell, "You're beautiful when you sleep. Relaxed, not bitching at me about being moody. You look a little like the young boy I remember so well," his eyes narrowed, "Except your hair darkened," he licked his lips, "but the face, in sleep, is the same." Sam tilted his head to the side, "Sometimes, you look so sweet, so innocent, I just have to touch you to make sure that you're real." He tore his gaze away from Dean, eyes darkening slightly as he cleared his throat, emotions, those same ones that had hit him before, when he had thought about kissing Dean, when he _had_ kissed him, beginning to stir. "I think you could sleep through an earthquake." he mumbled.

Strange emotions stirred inside Dean, preventing him like scoffing at those descriptions of himself, the way he ordinarily would have. Instead his chest constricted, his muscles tensing... waiting for something... something that could, would probably never happen again. In silence, he nodded and lay down, staring at Sam, knowing there was no way he'd sleep... until he was proven wrong by drifting off to sleep.

Sam sat there on the floor, still as a statue, eyes on Dean . He didn't move from that spot, just as he had said he wouldn't. Not while Dean was staring back, not when his eyelids grew heavy, not even when sleep finally claimed him and Sam wanted... wanted so badly to go over and touch...


	5. Chapter 5

Dean mumbled, protesting the fact that he was slowly coming awake. Lying on his stomach, with one arm hanging off the side of the bed, he stretched awkwardly and opened his eyes. 

 

"Whoa." He blinked, and Sam still sat there on the floor. His eyes went to the clock, then back to Sam. "That had to be the most boring six hours, ever."

Sam shook his head slowly as he looked at Dean. "I had plenty to keep me occupied." He tore his gaze away, "Did you sleep well?"

"Mmm, Yeah." Taking a deep breath, he pushed himself up and sat, stretching again. He looked out the widow and saw the sun was gone and it was starting to get dark. "And now _I'm_ keeping vampire hours," he muttered. "You want to something to eat? I'm starved."

Sam looked back at him, "You... I... no. I _ate_ earlier. Go ahead, I suppose humans have to do that, don't they?" the corner of his mouth lifted in a small slight smile before he pulled to his feet.

Giving him a speculative look, Dean nodded and walked out of the room. Downstairs, it was pretty much just one room, with a sofa and small t.v., and a few other old pieces of furniture which never bothered him before. And there was the small open kitchen and a counter. He quickly picked up the empty beer bottles and tossed them in the trash, then went about making himself a bowl of cereal. 

Sam slowly followed Dean down the stairs, looking around his home as he did, mentally comparing Dean's place with his own modern and relatively expensive one. The furnishings were old, mismatched, the house itself small and rickety. He wondered if Dean had always lived like this. The times Sam had seen him, been with him, it hadn't been as bad, at least not before his mother had died. After was a different story, one filled with a long string of motels. 

 

Memories of his own small home, the one Sam had shared with his mother and father, his baby sister, a lifetime ago flashed through his mind as he stood outside the kitchen, watching Dean make a bowl of cereal. Something told Sam it wasn't Dean's love of cereal that had him doing it. Money was likely tight, it had always been for the family Sam had had so long ago.

 

"Let me take you out." Sam shrugged, "You could use a big meal, I'm sure you're too worn out to make one now, so, let me take you somewhere. Buy you dinner. A thank you... for the facility thing."

Looking up, Dean searched for hints of pity, but found none. "Nah, it's good. Plus I'm waiting on someone," he shrugged. "You want a drink?"

 

Sam eyed Dean, slowly frowning. Waiting for someone? Waiting for _who_? Sam's jaw clenched as he shook his head slowly at Dean's offer for a drink. Was that a trick question? His eyes narrowed slightly. "Who are you waiting for?"

"Some guy's bringing his car over for me to fix up," he shrugged. "I took a look at it over at his place but it wasn't a small thing like he thought. Need my equipment." Pulling a stool out, he sat and started to eat at the counter, big spoonfuls at a time. He hadn't realized exactly how hungry he was but hell, he hadn't eaten since about six last night.

Sam made a face as he watched Dean eat. "How can you..." he shook his head, tearing his gaze away, "nevermind."

"What?" Dean asked, speaking around a mouthful of cereal and waving the spoon. 

 

Sam looked back, making a face again, a disgusted sound leaving him. "Stop... waving around the spoon, there's cow juice on it. It's... gross."

"Let's see now, cow blood is good, but milk is eww... right, you're strange." Waving the spoon around even more, and making sure milk drizzled off it each time he lifted a new spoonful of cereal to his mouth. Dean had his fun. "Who knew you could make a big, bad vampire squirm with milk."

Sam's face scrunched up even more as he watched Dean, cringing each time the milk drizzled off the spoon. "Disgusting... and it's deer blood, not cow." He shrank away slightly, "I'm going to make you watch me feed sometime, just to get back at you." He gave an exaggerated shudder.

"There's not much out there that can disgust me," Dean smugly cocked his he head to the side. "You'd be surprised."

They talked a while, but Dean refused to let Sam steer the conversation to school and studying. They'd already had a blow out over the whole Emily tutoring thing, which Dean still had trouble understanding. But he didn't need another argument right now so everything was fair game but that. 

 

Sam asked him about the years he hadn't been around. Course Sam already knew that less than a year after his mom passed, his dad sold the house in Kansas and that after that, they'd been on the move a lot. His dad had thrown himself into the family business, probably to escape thoughts of his wife's painful end. He'd drunk a lot more too, and sometimes said stuff about not having been there at the last moments of his wife's life. 

Clearing his throat, Dean told Sam that it had been much the same from when he was thirteen to when he was almost sixteen. His dad had bought this place in Forks because it was cheap and he could pay it all off, and would give Dean a roof over his head in case anything happened to him. They'd sort of used it as a base of operations, and then that _something_ did happen. 

 

Dean couldn't talk about how mangled his father's body had been, or that he'd died saving him. Clearing his throat again, he wiped a hand over his face. "I was almost sixteen, and I worked it out so I could be an emancipated minor. Stayed here and continued, that's... that's the boring end of it."

Seeing the soft look on Sam's face, he shook his head. "Don't." He didn't want comfort, it was too late for that, and he was too fucking old to need it.

Sam sighed, hung his head and licked his lips, "If I'd been here..." he looked up, shook his head, "I didn't mean to not be."

Dean didn't want to hear it. The hard knock at the door was a relief. Dropping the spoon, he raised the bowl to his lips and drank down the last of the milk. When he set it down, some of the liquid had streamed down his throat to his bare chest. Quickly wiping it off with his hand, he headed for the front door.

 

Sam's eyes zeroed in on the ribbon of milk that streamed down Dean's throat to his chest. The thought that milk probably didn't taste half as bad off Dean's body ran through his mind. He tore his gaze away just as Dean wiped the milk with his hand.

A few moments later, he'd opened the garage door and let old Mr. Lutz bring his car inside. The man's wife was waiting in her car for him, so they only spoke a few minutes.

"I've left the parts you asked for in the trunk."

"Great," Dean nodded. "I'll call you when it's ready, probably tomorrow."

"Fifty dollars, right?" Mr. Lutz made a slight face. "Can I pay you next week, the parts..."

Shaking his head yes, Dean didn't let the man see his disappointment. If Mr. Lutz said he was tight, Dean knew it was the truth. "I'll call."

"Thank you." Putting his cap on, the older man walked out of the garage.

Sam had held back, waiting until Dean had finished his business, hiding around corners of the house, his vampire hearing picking up the entire conversation, even as Sam tried not to listen in.

 

After the man had left, after hearing the car pull away, Sam stepped into the garage and tilted his head, leaning against the wall. "Fifty dollars? Remind me to bring my Camaro to _you_ from now on."

Dean grinned. "If it's something small, I'll do it for free. You don't have to hang around for this." In his pristine clothes, Sam really didn't look like he belonged in a dusty garage. If he leaned on anything, he'd probably get grease or something on his clothes, or hands. Not waiting for an answer, he went around the car and unloaded the trunk. Then he opened up the engine, and leaned in to talk a look.

Sam gave Dean a small smile, a mere turning up of the corner of his lips to his offer to fix small things on his car for free. The smile quickly disappeared and was replaced by a frown. "Why do you always do that?" Sam asked him, brows furrowed, "Do I make you that uncomfortable?"

"Do what?" Wiping his hand on a rag, Dean looked back.

"Always trying to get rid of me." Sam told him, taking a step closer, but not too close, as he leaned in slightly, looking over Dean's shoulder before pulling back again as he waited for his answer.

"Was I?" Dean raised an eyebrow. "You hang out here, and you're gonna get dirty. Just giving you an out." He knew damn well Sam wasn't really interested in looking at his old engine, or standing around. Why he was trying to pretend was a mystery. Grabbing some tools, he started to work on the engine, straining to open bolts that had been tightened years ago and were rusted in place.

Sam watched, noticing the way Dean was struggling slightly. With a sigh and a huff, Sam stepped closer. "Move," he told him, reaching for the tool Dean was using. "I can get that done, whatever it is you're trying to do, a lot easier than you can. Besides, you look like Emmett when he's trying to out climb me when you make that face." he shook his head, "it isn't pretty." Sam turned his attention to the engine, "now, what am I doing here?"

"This isn't tennis... there's no 'doubles' in car fixing," Dean protested. "And I don't look at all like Emmett... I'm much better looking, and I'd out climb you any day if you stopped cheating and using vampire powers. Turn the lug." He leaned in behind Sam, putting his hand and over Sam's and guiding him.

It had been on the tip of Sam's tongue to tell Dean that he wouldn't be 'cheating' and using 'vampire powers', he was just that he was, stronger, faster, better. He wasn't human. But then, Dean's hand covered his and Sam lost his words, his body tensing as he swallowed hard, eyes darkening. He clenched his jaw, doing as Dean told him, the lug coming off easily with Sam working the wrench. "Uh, it would help a lot if you... wouldn't do that." 

"Do what?" Dean guided Sam's hand to the next lug and released him, but continued to lean in. Damn, Sam really did smell good. Unconsciously, he moved his nose closer to Sam's throat and took a sniff. He wasn't imagining it, he... yeah, it wasn't only the smell though. He pulled away before he could think on the feelings coursing through him.

Sam closed his eyes, sucked his bottom lip into his mouth and sighed softly. He shook his head. How was he supposed to explain? Stop leaning in, stop touching me because it makes me want to do things that you don't want me to do.

Makes me want to turn around and kiss you, touch you, taste you, drink you until there's nothing left and I finally have what I have wanted, hungered, thirsted for for so long. Until I possess you body and soul. Yeah, there was no way to explain that. 

 

He cleared his throat, tried to ignore the odd feeling that Dean was actually leaning in closer. No way, must be his imagination, but his teeth started to ache just the same, his eyes an inky black. Sam grit his teeth, was just about to yell at Dean to step back for his own good, when Dean did on his own. Maybe Dean had started to be able to feel _his_ feelings too... That was something he had never thought of before. Was it possible?

 

Sam continued to do what Dean had showed him, unfastening the lugs and keeping his gaze averted from Dean's face, "Dean.... do you... ever _feel_ me?"

"No, I swear, I wasn't feeling you out, just smelling you!" Staggering back further, Dean cursed himself for not thinking. What the hell had he been doing, anyway? 

 

Sam frowned, keeping his eyes averted as he shook his head, "No, that's not what I meant." He glanced over at Dean then, "Smelling me?" he quickly looked away. "I meant do you ever... feel my emotions, my feelings, feel... what I feel. Pain... pleasure."

"Your emotions? That's everybody's emotions." Then he realized what Sam meant, "oh, you mean like a psychic or an empath? No, I'm just ... normal." He leaned in to look at the engine, but this time was careful not to get close to Sam. "Aright, good, here you can use this to wipe off," he said passing Sam a cloth. "Ah... why do you ask? I mean is there something spooky about me?"

Sam pulled back to his full height, shook his head as he took the rag and started wiping his hands. "No. Not you. It's me... it's nothing. Forget I asked."

Glancing over, Dean saw Sam's eyes had gone dark. He sucked his breath in. That didn't make him feel like running like hell, the way Sam said it should. It just made him wish he was alone and whacking off to the memory of the image. His heart kicked up a notch at the thought and he had to use every shred of his control to force his mind back to his work. Maybe if he pretended Sam wasn't there. Sure, cause it was easy to ignore someone who took up the whole damned garage with his height and presence.

In silence, he worked on the engine. Questions as to why Sam was emotional right now, right this minute... why was he hungry, if that's what was going on, swam in his head. But he knew better than to ask right now. After a while, he got out from under the hood and wiped his own hands off. "You alright?"

Sam had stepped back, and was silently watching Dean. He nodded his head, "Better." he told him, though the word was clipped, his eyes still not quite their golden hazel hue.

Giving a slight smile, Dean nodded and moved across the room. He kicked his makeshift creeper on casters closer to the car, and got down on the ground. Selecting a few tools, he put them next to the tire, then lay back on the creeper and slid his body under the car to work under the vehicle. "Hmm." He muttered some ideas to himself and started tinkering.

Sam's eyes followed Dean as Dean got down on the floor and slid under the car, his tee pulling up and revealing his stomach. Sam frowned and shifted his weight. What was he doing now? Was he trying to get him worked up? Was he doing things on purpose now?

 

Sam looked away, peeking back as he saw Dean slide out from the corner of his eye, only to slide back under the car again after grabbing a tool. His gaze traveled over Dean's hard abs, the defined muscle, slowly lowering to the start of his jeans, the button, zipper, the belt that circled his waist, then back up to his stomach again, watched as muscles flexed and rippled with Dean's movements.

 

Dean slid out slightly and a flash of chest caught Sam's eye, work sculpted, and smooth. Sam felt his teeth start to ache, as his eyes darkened again, the blood beginning to pound in his temples. Oh God... he needed to stop this, to put an end to this now. But, Dean just kept on doing it, sliding under the car and out, muscles flexing with each movement.

He even started to make small sounds, grunts as he worked.

 

Sam grit his teeth, hands curling into fists. He took a leaden step forward toward Dean. He couldn't do it. Couldn't _not_ take anymore. Dean knew, he had told him, and yet here he was teasing him. It wasn't his fault, wasn't because he was bad, evil. Dean was holding it out there, like a steak before a starving man. What the hell was he supposed to do? But, more than that, mixed with the hunger, there was another feeling, another desire, to possess in ways that he shouldn't be wanting to. Dean wasn't interested in him. He shouldn't be thinking about what it would be like to touch him, caress, feel every inch of his naked flesh, nip and lick his skin to hold him down under him and....

 

"ENOUGH!" Sam yelled the word, striking out sideways with one hand, hitting a shelf, knocking its contents, scattering them all over the floor. He was breathing hard, deep ragged breaths. Dean's scent was making him dizzy, the sound of his heart, the sight of his body, the sounds, all of it, it was too much. Too damn much.

Walking his legs forward on the ground, but still on the creeper, Dean looked at Sam and the mess he'd made.

 

Sam looked down at Dean from under his lashes, inky black eyes narrowed, his body tense as he fought not to just attack him right then and there, hands clenched into hard fists. "You _have to_ stop this," he shook his head, "Or I won't be able to anymore."

Cursing, Dean pushed up off the ground and wiped his hands on his jeans. "Stop what? You're fucking nuts..." he pointed at the tools on the ground. "Goddamit, what is it with you? Every time I turn around, you're breaking stuff. My window... this... You need to work on your social skills." It was something Dean had heard often enough from others, but hell, he didn't go from normal to tantrum for no reason. "I get that none of this means a thing to you, but it does to me, alright? I warned you that you'd be bored... I am not your entertainment, Sam. You don't like it that I'm working, sorry. It's how it is."

Sam listened to him, eyes narrowed. _You know exactly what you're doing._ Sam looked down at the tools Dean pointed to, then back at Dean's face, his breaths still unsteady. Teeth aching so badly as Dean's scent continued to surround him, making him crazy. At least Dean _was_ right about that. He was nuts and it was Dean that was making him that way. Social skills? Tantrum? Bored? Ha! He was anything but bored.

 

Sam tried to control his anger, anger at himself for nearly losing it, anger at Dean for pushing him, anger that the one person he finally wanted, that he was interested in sexually, was not only the one he had promised to protect, a human, but also someone who didn't want him in return. He tried, he really did, but in the next moment, he was rushing at Dean, pushing him back against the car, pinning him there, back slight bent back against the car as Sam's dark eyes met green.

 

"It was better than doing it to what I _wanted_ to break..." His gaze traveled over Dean's face, "still do." His eyes narrowed even more, face set in harsh lines, " _wanted_ to break _you_ , wanted to watch as your broke, be the one here to pick you up after." His lips curved into a smile that was anything but friendly, his fangs showed, "and then end this ache that you make burn inside me. Put out those fires once and for all." His dark eyes searched Dean's face, before he suddenly pulled back, and ran from the room and out of the house, disappearing into the woods.

Arms spread wide, dean gripped the car to keep him up as his legs practically buckled. His chest rose and fell his breaths labored as they left him. His mind was a mess. What the hell happened here? Why was his body burning with need, why was he so fucking hard just because Sam had showed him, told him he'd been close to losing control, to wanting to ... to what? Drink him dry? Why did if feel like this had been about something else, about the same strange sexual urges he got when he thought of the heat in Sam's eyes? But he'd bared his fangs, he'd told him that he'd wanted to break him. There was no mistaking that.

Straightening, he turned and braced his weight on his hands still on the car, trying to get control over the feelings raging inside him. He just needed to get laid. Needed to put thoughts of that dark look out of his head. And maybe now Sam would keep away from him. He couldn't expect Dean to pretend he hadn't gone nuts like this, could he? 

 

"Fuck you Sam Cullen. Fuck you for ... " he ran a hand through his hair. "For making me feel like this."

* * *

Emmett looked up at Dean Winchester's bedroom window, then back at his brother, making a face as he shifted the glass he held in his hands, Sam holding the other side.

"I can't believe after three days of him being an ass you want to put a window in for him." Emmett grumbled.

Sam sighed, "I broke it. I need to replace it. Besides, I was avoiding him too. It wasn't just him."

Emmett eyed his brother and shook his head, but said nothing more about it as they leapt up to Dean's bedroom window and started to work, first knocking down the boards Dean had placed, then starting to install the glass.

"He probably won't even like it." Emmett complained.

Sam smiled softly, but said nothing.

"He'll find something wrong with it." Emmett told him as he glanced up at Sam, "Even if you did get the most expensive one."

 

Sam sighed again and shrugged, " _I'll_ feel better." he explained.

 

Emmett made a face, "You're so friggin weird sometimes."

 

Sam chuckled and nodded, "Been told that a lot lately." His words got him a snort from his brother.

Pulling up into his driveway, Dean's eyes immediately when to the two figures standing on the sloped roof right outside his room, bent over. He recognized Sam's ass right off the bat and the other, he had no clue. Parking, he got out.

 

“What are you doing up there?" When no one bothered to answer, he cursed. "Sonova..." and walked into his house, taking the stairs two at a time, and crossing his room to where the boards were now off the window again.

"Just what the fuck are you doing," he demanded, glaring at Sam and Emmett, both of them acting as if this was the most normal thing in the world.

Sam glanced up under his brows at Dean as he continued to work, before looking back at his brother.

"Told ya." Emmett grumbled.

 

Sam snickered softly and shook his head. "Putting in a window, what's it look like?"

"No, I mean why. I mean what the hell are you doing _here_ ," he came up to them, furious sparks shooting out of his eyes. "I didn't invite you. Didn't say you could be there... that's trespassing, right there. Stop."

Sam glanced up at him again, before looking at his brother, as they continued to work, "Hold this," he told his brother, as he reached for a screwdriver, and started tightening screws. Once he finished he passed the screwdriver to Emmett as he held the same area on the other side for him. It was only then that he looked back at Dean again, "I decided to put in a window to replace the one that got broken. My brother was nice enough to volunteer to help me."

At the word volunteer Emmett huffed and shook his head, but remained silent.

"Do you like the window? I could have gotten you a different one I suppose, but I sorta liked this one."

 

He did like the window a helluvalot better than staring at a piece of wood. "That's not the point." He gritted his teeth, trying to stay angry. "I can't have my place crawling with vampires, I'm a hunter. It's... it's just not done." He looked between Emmett and Sam, "a little to the right."

Sam looked back at Emmett and smirked as they moved the window to the right as Dean told them.

Emmett nodded, "He _is_ as moody as you are." he grumbled, eyes on what he was doing.

 

Sam looked up at Dean, "You're home is not _crawling_ with vampires. It's just me and Emmett. I could have brought Alice, Jasper and Rosalie with me too, but I didn't." He gave a pointed nod.

Dean made a face. "And I am not moody. I'm the most even tempered person I know." He watched, biting his tongue when he wanted to give more advice on how to put the window in. "And this would have been completely unnecessary if vampires knew where not to stick their noses," he nodded. 

Emmett glanced up at Dean then, "That's what I've been telling him." he gave his brother a pointed look.

 

Sam narrowed his eyes at his brother, and looked back down, "Did you get the car fixed?" Sam asked, changing the subject.

Dean pressed his lips together, not really wanting to think on that night. "You should listen to Emmett, even he gets things right once in a while." He felt like an idiot, standing there and talking to them. If they'd been human, he knew he'd be tossing their asses off his property. Maybe.

Sam quirked a brow as he looked up at Dean, "I made a promise." he told him quietly before looking away, "Besides, there's... I have reasons."

 

Emmett looked at his brother and shook his head, "You and Edward."

 

Sam huffed, "Edward had it a lot easier."

 

"Still human." Emmett countered.

 

"Not the same." Sam told him, shaking his head, his eyes lowered on what he was doing.

"I'm right here, you know. It's rude to talk like I'm not." He knew they were talking about him, but couldn't figure out what the hell they were saying with their double talk. "You got something to say to me?" He stared at Sam.

 

Emmett stopped and looked from Dean to his brother as Sam looked up at Dean, licked his lips and shook his head. "It's nothing."

 

Emmett huffed and shook his head, "Chicken." he mumbled as he started to work again.

Dean opened his mouth to say something when his cell rang. Shaking his head, he snapped his phone open and walked slightly away. "Yeah?" A slow smile spread over his face. "Sure, I'll pick you up at seven. Anything you wanna see is good with me. Not that one," he drew the line at chick flicks. "Huh? Sure, tell your mom no problem, I'll have you home by eleven," he agreed." As if a curfew was protection against anything. "See you."

Emmett glanced over at Dean, then looked at Sam, "Deer's gettin' away."

 

Sam glared at his brother. "Shut up," he spat, teeth clenched, as he looked over at Dean, "I know already, alright?" he muttered to his brother, looking at him out of the corner of his eye.

 

Sam returned his full attention to Dean, "Uh, don't you think you ought to be studying? You have a paper due, don't you?"

"Yeah, fucking papers coming out of my ears. I bought a couple," he gave his 'win' grin. "Can you guys hurry it up, I gotta shower and change. He was bouncing on the balls of his feet until he realized he was doing that and cut it out. 

Emmett pulled up with a sigh, "We're done." 

 

Sam frowned as he looked over at his brother, "We are?"

 

"Dude, that window was in five minutes ago, I've been tightening and untightening the same---"

 

"Okay!" Sam cut him off, glaring.

He looked over at Dean, "I guess it's in. Shouldn't someone push on it? Try it out?" Sam looked over at his brother, and they both looked back at Dean.

 

"We do it and it'll just get broken again." Emmett told Dean with a shrug.

"Yeah well, maybe if no one ever touched it again from outside..." Trailing off, Dean came and tested it. "It'll hold. Thanks." The last was said a bit stiffly, seeing as the only reason he even needed it replaced was standing right there unrepentant. "Better than the board. I'm thinking about shutters." His gaze met Sam's.

Sam met Dean's gaze, the corner of his lips turning up, "I'd just rip them off." he told him softly.

"Ass." If he really wanted to go somewhere Sam couldn't see him, couldn't visit, he could. Just down the stairs. The safe room. But that was his little secret. "Don't slip on your way down." When neither of the guys moved, Dean shrugged, turned around and started to take his clothes off.

Emmett looked at his brother, giving a nod toward Dean, but Sam only frowned at him and shook his head.

 

"Dean," Emmett called to him, his gaze locked with Sam's angry one. "I think Sam has something he wants to say to you."

 

Sam narrowed his eyes at Emmett, "No, I don't. Don't listen to him. He's just dizzy from being so high up."

Dean turned, tossing the shirt on his bed. "Alright, then let Emmett tell me." He looked at Sam's stocky brother and spread his hands. "Come on, what's the big secret?"

Sam clenched his jaw and shook his head at his brother, "It's not the same as Edward." he told him through gritted teeth.

 

Emmett sighed and shook his head, glanced at Dean then looked back at his brother, "Only to you. The deer doesn't see any difference. The only difference is in _your_ head, Sam." Emmett told him, then looked at Dean and shook his head, "Guess I was wrong. Nevermind."

 

Emmett stepped over to his brother. "Think about it, Sam. The deer only sees the hunter, he doesn't care if it's male or female or what it is." With that, he leaped down.

 

Sam sighed. "I'll, uh, see you later." 

"What's he talking about hunters and deers." Dean narrowed his eyes, "he think I'm hunting you? Now I'm sure the crazy runs in the family." Shaking his head at the thought that they really were weird, he decided he was done with them. He scrubbed his face and headed toward the shower, hand on the button of his jeans. 

 

Sam didn't answer, only watched as Dean walked toward the bathroom, then turned and ducked out the window himself.

* * *

The movie was half way through and Dean couldn't have been happier with his date. They were sitting in a row all to themselves and he had his arm around her. He squeezed her arm and she drew close again. Slanting his mouth over hers, he started another long kiss. 

 

She was hot for him, he was hot for her, that was all that mattered. He pulled her closer, sucking his breath in as he felt her breast press against his chest, and her arm sliding around his shoulder. As their tongues tangled, the movie blurred and he could no longer hear the audio.

Sam had followed Dean, had gone after him to see where he was going and make sure he was safe.... at least that's what he told himself. That was the reason he kept saying to himself over and over again as he trailed along after him, even after Dean had picked up his date and those strange feelings of anger and near pain washed over him.

 

He told himself it was nothing, that he was just imaging it. But now, as he stood, leaning against the wall in the darkened theatre and watching Dean kiss his date, those same feelings slammed into him and he wanted nothing more than to rip the girls throat out, to let her know that that was _his_ , Dean belonged to him. 

 

Tearing his gaze away, Sam looked up at the screen as some movie, he wasn't even sure what it was, played. Narrowing his eyes, he got an idea. He focused on the movie, on the projection room and the lights.

 

A smile tugged at the corner of his mouth as the movie came to an abrupt halt and the bright lights in the theater turned on. So much for Dean's little dark make out place. 

The outcry from the audience was what had Dean coming up for air. "What the hell?" He looked up, still hanging onto her.

"Dean," she tried to pull away before everyone saw her. 

"S'alright. They'll fix it," he said, wiping his mouth and mentally cursing as they waited. Several minutes later, the lights went out and the movie was on again. Even before the clapping stopped, Dean had his date on his lap. Better, this was definitely better. He slid his hand up and down her side, finally resting it where he could feel the swell of her breast. 

She made a soft sound and opened her mouth a little more, gasping at how quickly he took control. Pressing closer, she kissed him back with everything she had. So what if he slept around. So what if he wasn't boyfriend material? He knew how to make a girl feel special, and that's what counted. 

Sam narrowed his eyes, jaw clenched. Dean wanted to play hardball, fine. Sam focused on the seats around Dean. One by one they ripped out of place and fell over, slamming to the floor, loud enough that they were heard over the movie. Sam continued until he was at _her_ seat and paused for a moment, half a breath, and then her empty seat went flying, not just falling over, but hurling toward the screen.

 

"Holy shit!" Dean shot up, holding her against him protectively, his heart racing as he looked around. "What the hell?"

"What's happening?" Her voice quivered, and there were others getting up and climbing over each other to get out of there.

"I dunno, it's fine."

"Dean, let's get out of here," she was tugging on him.

He walked with her, his gaze scanning the emptying theater. Dammit... was there a ghost? Course he didn't have an EMF meter on him. Only because he was certain no one was hurt, he left with her. 

They were half way to her house when he asked if she wanted to park somewhere. She was so shook up thought that he wasn't surprised when she said she wanted to call it a night. He walked her to her door and kissed her, before she disappeared inside.

"Fuck...fuck... fuck..." he cursed all the way back to the car. "Dammit."

Sam had followed Dean again, slipping out of the theater once he was certain his little show had scared them out of making out all night in the theatre. He crouched high up in one of the tall trees, watching as Dean walked back to his car. A smirk pulled at his lips as he heard Dean's angry outburst. None for 'all-the-way Dean' tonight apparently. Satisfied, Sam turned and made his way back home.

 

Twenty minutes later, Dean took EMF readings of the theater, and after finding nothing, headed for home.

* * *

Dean was in such a bad mood, no one wanted to sit next to him. He'd snapped at the physics teacher so bad he almost got sent to the principal. The guy was an ass, and someone had to tell him. Then he'd gotten into a physical fight, and luckily no teachers had been around. Now he was staring halfheartedly at the apple in his hand. He didn't want it. Yeah, what he needed was to go into town and make a little money, and get a little. Everything was working against him around here these days and it was pissing him the hell off.

Sam pulled from his seat next to Alice, her hand touching his, before he walked from their table over to Dean and sat down across from him, "You know, staring at it won't magically make you full," Sam told him, as his eyes flickered from the apple to Dean's face. 

Dean tossed it at him. "You eat it."

Sam caught the apple and set it on the table, "Um, no. Thanks." He looked at Dean, brows drawing together, "What's bothering you?"

"How the fuck is that your business? Dean glared at Sam, like it was his fault.

Sam sighed, looked back at the table with his family, then returned his gaze to Dean's. "Maybe I care."

"That's a load of crock." Dean tilted his head back. "I know your type. You like to sit back and watch someone. You hope there's drama in their life, then you can live through them... experience it. Awww, poor Dean Winchester, what's going wrong in your life? Gets your rocks off hearing about it. How'm I doing so far?"

Sam's eyes narrowed, his jaw set. "Not even close," he said, voice low, but there was an underlying hurt there. Sam pulled to his feet and started back toward his family, only to pause, "I bother you that much..." he clenched his jaw, "you won't see me anymore." He continued back to his family's table.

Dean's gaze followed Sam to his table. Somehow, he couldn't look away. Maybe that was for the best. Maybe he could then stop dealing with confusing feelings that popped up at the weirdest times when he thought about Sam. They'd fought together so well against that nest of vamps. Dean missed his dad, missed having a partner. Once in a while, he thought about asking Sam to join him. Then he'd think about the almost kiss. And the broken window and shelf, and he knew it would be nuts... like bringing a powder keg into your home. 

When Sam looked at him for a second, Dean felt shame. That look in his eyes, like a wounded puppy... like he'd kicked him. But it was fucking nuts, wasn't it? Sam was a vampire. He never took 'no' for an answer. He had a temper. Finally looking away, Dean got up. A weird sensation of loss blossomed low in his belly, but he ignored it as best as he could.

* * *

Two weeks later, Dean hadn't seen Sam at all. He wasn't gonna say he was sorry that the guy wasn't at his window all the time, but he wasn't in school either. Once, he'd almost approached Rosalie to ask her, but she'd given him a look that told him to stay the fuck away. He wasn't scared, but he didnt want to pick a fight either, so he'd let it go.

He walked into the small local diner and made a face as the owner, Mrs. Charles, gushed over him. It was embarrassing, but the food here was too good to pass up. Holding his smile, he ordered. "I'll take a pastrami with extra onions."

"Got it. With fries, right?"

He looked up at the price board, though he should know it by now. "Ah...no, and it's ‘to go’."

"Sure. Did you want pie or one of our large chocolate chip cookies?" She gave him a an expectant smile.

"Not today. Can we just ring this up..."

She was clucking over his decision against dessert as she waited for him to count out his money, raising her brow as he pushed a bunch of coins across the counter at her. When he mentioned he'd be right back, she watched him head for the restroom and then started counting the money. She was still counting when one of the Cullens walked in. They never came here, but everyone knew them. Shaking her head, she kept muttering, "Never known that boy to leave without dessert. Now then, how can I help you?" 

Sam had been following Dean, had never stopped. Not even after the harsh words Dean had said to him in the cafeteria two weeks ago. They still stung, but Sam had a job to do, a promise to keep, and he wasn't about to let Mary Winchester down. 

 

He stepped up to the counter and offered the woman a soft smile, one that usually melted the hearts of humans as his golden hazel eyes met hers. He glanced toward the bathroom, then looked back at the woman, "That customer of yours there," Sam nodded toward the bathrooms, "what does he usually get for dessert?"

"You mean Dean? Pie or chocolate chip cookies. This is the first time he passed on them," she said. "Maybe he's feeling poorly, there's something going around. Why?"

Sam shook his head as he reached into his back pocket and took out a hundred dollar bill. "I want you to get him the pie and the cookie and tell him it's on the house. Tell him he was the billionth customer," Sam shook his head, "tell him anything you want to, just _don't_ tell him it was from me," he told her sternly, before handing over the bill with a charming smile, "can you do that for me?"

"I never saw you," she smiled. Opening the cash registers, she scraped together enough change, and passed it to him. "Is he... I know he gets help from an uncle. Is there a problem? I"m sure pastor Burton would help if he asked. Raise some money."

Sam leaned toward the woman, his smile firmly planted on his face, as he slid the change back toward her, "There's no problem, and no one else needs to ever think that there is." His eyes dropped to the change, before he looked back up at her and winked, then turned and headed toward the door. Once there he stopped with his back against the glass, "My father says you should come in more and bring those danishes of yours to the hospital, I hear they are heavenly." He lied smoothly with a charming smile, before slipping out the door.

Her mouth fell open. She tried to wave his money, but he left it there for her. Stunned, she started wrapping the dessert for Dean.

When he came out and saw her, he reminded her he hadn't gotten any. Then she said it was on the house because he was the billionth customer, and he knew it was a crock. When he tried to refuse and saw it was turning into a big deal, he just shook his head. "Thank you, but if I get a big gut, I'm blaming you," he said tapping his stomach twice.

"Oh, I don't think you need to worry about that," she answered.

As he took the bag, he grinned. "It's a good thing that husband of yours takes good care of you or ... I might snap you up," he said, strolling to the front door.

Stunned a second time in a short span of time, she started to fan herself with a menu. 

 

* * *

 

The music blared loudly in the seedy Seattle bar. Smoke hung thickly in the lounge, and the rough-looking patrons made a lot of noise. Dean had easily gotten in with a fake identification card. He was so fucking short of money that he'd had to go to the big city in the middle of the week. 

 

He whipped his pool stick around. "Alright, who's next?" he challenged, grinning from ear to ear. His wallet was already stretched with three hundred dollars he'd collected in the last couple of hours. Another hundred or two, and he'd be set for a while.

"I'm done. How about a drink?" 

Dean stared at the guy with a gold tooth and thought he really didn't want one. But when several whiskeys were set down on the bar, and his friends came over, he thought it was the least he could do since he'd taken their money. They talked shit for a while, asking him questions. He made stuff up about himself as usual, and started getting a weird vibe. His gut was telling him something was off, but he didn't know what. He'd just finish the drink and decided to take off. Lifting the glass up, he noticed his hand was shaking. That wasn't right.

"What did you say your name was, kid?" Billy licked his big, thick lips. "No one ever teach you that you shouldn't hustle in a place like this?"

The laughter from the others sounded harsh. Shit, they were about to pick a fight, he could feel it in his bones.

Another man to Dean's left sneered and chuckled, "He doesn't look old enough to be here to me. Isn't it past your bedtime, kid?"

 

Slash, a biker, who to say was not a people person was putting it mildly, turned around, his bald head gleaming in the low light, red rimmed eyes glassy, "I think 'junior' needs to be taught a lesson about what happens to punks who try to play with the big dogs."

"Look man, it was just a game." Pushing away from the bar, Dean was prepared to fight or leave... only his body wasn't listening. The lights bothered his eyes, his legs wouldn't do as he wanted, and the voices were slowing down. Something was wrong.

"Yeah, let's show pretty boy why he should have stayed on his own side of town. I'm first with him." Setting his glass down, he got up.

"First what? Huh... wha..." tilting his head back, Dean noticed the leer. Make that leers. "Sonova... Like hell you will." He didn't even wait, he just threw the punch while he still could, and missed by a mile, staggering. No way, no fucking way... they'd drugged his drink.

Slash snickered as he stepped toward Dean, "I just want first dibs to that pretty mouth. Boys got better dick sucking lips than my old lady," he laughed at his own words and the others joined him.

 

The guy to Dean's left came around behind him, catching Dean around the middle, "Hey, hey, what're ya doin' now, there's no punchin' here, we just wanna show you how it feels to be FUCKED! Like you fucked us."

"No... asshole... no Goddamnit..." Dean's struggles were weak. He could barely see, and what he did see made him want to screw his eyes shut. Rough hands grabbed him and shoved him out of the back door of the bar, then against a chain link fence. His fingers grabbed on, some of them passing through the links as he raised his head. He felt a trickle of blood from his nose. "Enough."

Billy roared with laughter. "We haven't even started the party, boy." While his friends held Dean, he tore his shirt open and worked on his jeans. Feeling Slash right behind him, he gave the guy a nod. "I'm first up his ass," he said, moving aside to let Slash at the boy.

"Sonova... no... no..." Looking up at the bright moon, Dean mentally screamed. This was not how he was meant to go out. He wanted to go out like his dad. He didn't want to play some guy's bitch. 

"Damn... he's hot. Make him scream," Jack said, undoing his own pants and reaching in. "Come on, let's do this."

Sam had been pacing outside the bar, working up the nerve to tell Dean, like Emmett and Rosalie had said he should. Just let the chips fall where they may. If he wasn't interested, better to know and get over it then do like he had been and mope around, hiding in the shadows.

 

It was on one of his passes near the back alley when Sam felt Dean's panic, it had stopped him in his tracks. Sudden and out of the blue. Before that, there had been nothing, nothing out of the ordinary for Dean anyway.

 

"Dean?" Sam whispered his name, before jogging toward the back of the bar, frowning. What was he doing back there? Surely he wasn't back there with some girl again. Then again it _was_ Dean...

 

Slash stepped up to Dean, sneering, as he grabbed Dean's face in one hand, squeezing his cheeks, "Open that pretty mouth for me, boy. Let's see just how much you can take." he told him, his free hand working the button of his leather pants open.

Dean tried to clench his teeth together, shouting through them as the bald man forced him to open. "No... bite your fucking dick off... bite... I'll...." Darkness started to engulf him, even as he threatened Slash, his words slurred both because he was going under and because of the way he was being held.

"Come on... come on, fuck his mouth," Jack was already stroking his own cock. "Billy... for fucks sake, fuck him."

An unholy light sparked in Billy's eyes as he nodded. Pushing pretty boy forward, he roughly dragged his jean's down and started to line himself up with his mouth just as Slash moved in to take him from behind.

Sam was at the tall back gate of the bar and scaling its side with ease in no time. He could hear what was going on as he climbed. Fear for Dean and anger at anyone who would touch him blossomed inside Sam, turning his eyes an inky black, just as he jumped over the side of the wall, landing on his feet with a feral growl.

 

Two of the men looked over, to see Sam, teeth bared, before he advanced on them with vampiric speed, his movements a blur to the human eye as he slung three of them away from Dean, the last one, Sam advanced on decided to fight back. The guy was bald and well built and obviously not very bright. Sam ended up tearing his head from his body before it was over. The others weren't as lucky, they died slower, more painful deaths, their screams filling the night.

 

Once it was over, Sam went back to Dean, falling to his knees beside him, where he was laying on the ground, face down and rolled him over slowly, gently. Sam was covered in the other men's blood, but at the moment, he didn't care, "Dean?" Sam said his name softly as inky black eyes took in his face, his form, torn clothes and bloody nose.

Panicked, Dean was trying uselessly to push the man away until the voice calling his name sank in. He hadn't told those men his name. He forced his eyes open. "It's you. Sam... it's you." It was like he could let himself go now, and he did, blacking out with a smile on his face.

Sam slid his arms under Dean, one under his back, the other his knees and lifted him as he pulled to his feet as though Dean weighed nothing. Carrying him from the back alleyway, Sam made his way to his car and placed Dean in the passenger side, leaning the seat back.

 

Arriving at Dean's house, Sam took Dean up to his room. The only reason the scent of Dean's blood on his skin, Dean's scent, wasn't bothering him, was his worry for Dean was taking precedence over everything else. Sam's eyes remained dark all the while as he undressed Dean, trying to be sure not to look, covering him quickly with the blanket on his bed.

 

Once Dean was settled in, Sam slowly laid down on the bed next to him on his side, watching him, one hand running through his hair. "What were you doing there?" he whispered softly.

*

Sam watched Dean as he started to move, relief washing through him, although he had heard Dean's steady heartbeat all night, he had laid beside him worrying over his welfare. He had called his father once he had Dean in bed, had told him what he had found and asked him what to do. Unfortunately, Carlisle had only been able to tell Sam to keep a close eye on Dean and wait.

 

Dean moved around, not quite wanting to wake up. His hand hit something... oh, he had company. Snuggling closer, he breathed in a sweet scent. "Smell so fine," he mumbled, lifting his head slightly and bringing his mouth down. He felt a cheekbone and unerringly moved his mouth lower, slanting it over his bedmate's mouth and kissing slowly at first, then pushing his tongue inside. Irked by the lack of a response, he moved his hands over the body next to him, molding them closer together as he renewed his assault, tasting cookies and cream as he stroked his tongue in and out.

Sam tensed as Dean snuggled closer, frowning in confusion. His frown deepened at Dean's sleepy comment and Sam was about to tell him that he did NOT smell like cookies, when Dean lifted his head and brought his lips down on Sam's cheek. Sam slid his head slightly against the pillow as he tried to look at Dean to see what he was doing and why, only to have Dean move again, his lips making contact instead with Sam's own.

 

Sam jumped slightly at the contact, eyes widening, as he continued to look at him, not closing his eyes at all, body tense.

 

Then Dean's hands started to move against him, over his body. Sam sucked in a breath through his nose, held his breath, hands clenching into fists, gripping the blanket, as he stared at him. 

 

Between Dean's hands and his mouth, warmth, heat, a fire, started to spread through Sam's body, pooling in his groin. His teeth started to ache, his eyes darkened again, having lightened in the night, blood pounded at his temples. Why was he doing this?

 

As Dean's tongue moved in and out of his mouth, Sam groaned, before he forced himself to release his death grip on the blanket under him and to press his palm gently against Dean's shoulder to get him to stop. He was drunk. That was what it was. What it had to be. He was drunk, didn't know what he was doing. 

"Come on baby, give me some sugar," Dean protested, trying to move close again. Throwing his leg over his bedmate, he half rolled over, tracing the mouth under his with his tongue and trying to push inside. Frustrated by the lips sealed so tight, he moved against his lover, pressing his hardening cock against what he thought was a firm thigh. As he moved his mouth back and forth, he groaned lightly. "Take me inside."

When he had Dean's mouth off his, Sam pressed his lips together, frowning hard at him. The feel of Dean's tongue tracing his lips however, was no better, his teeth were aching and a need began to fill him. God how he wanted to just roll Dean over and kiss him, lick _his_ lips, his chest, trail his mouth over him... sink his fangs into his throat and drink his blood, blood that he knew, had always known, would be so sweet. 

 

Dean's groin rubbing against his thigh, had Sam gasping in a breath, as his hands tightened in the fabric of the blanket under him, his body so tensed, his teeth clenched together so tightly it was a wonder he wasn't breaking anything as his own cock twitched. _Oh God..._ he couldn't take this any longer, he really couldn't.

 

This time, Sam planted both hands against Dean's shoulders and pushed him off , rolling him back onto the bed. Inky black eyes looked down at Dean as he shook his head, "You have no idea who you are saying that to."

"You," Dean whispered, giving up and falling back into the deep sleep.

 

Sam stared at Dean. He wasn't sure how to take that. He had spoken. Dean _had to_ know it was him. He knew... But, yet he had said,... no. There was no way, no way. Sam slowly pulled from the bed and went to the window, laying his forehead against the cool glass as he closed his eyes with a sigh.

*

Dean jacknifed up and put his hand over his pounding forehead and eyes. Motherfuck..." It felt like he'd had too much to drink, only he didn't remember the fun of drinking. Eyes squinted, he walked to the bathroom and popped a couple of pills, swallowing them down with water from the sink. When he looked in the mirror, he saw a slight bruise on his cheek. That's when other pains on his body made themselves known. 

Bending over, he splashed water over his face and dried up, trying to think back. Pool. He'd won. They hadn't been happy, those men. He remembered doing a stupid thing, drinking without having seen the bar tender pour. Then it was all blank. "Fuck."

He went to check his wallet, and the money was still there. Maybe those guys hadn't been so bad after all, he thought. Then he saw his clothes ripped up, and a bit of blood on his shirt. What the hell had happened? What? He sat heavily down on the bed, looking around, and noticed that there was a dent on the spare pillow. His gaze snapped to the window. Open.

"Now what?" He licked his lips. Sam couldn't have... he hadn't taken his clothes off... he... Flopping down, he pulled the spare pillow close. Yes, yes he had been here, and he'd been in the bed. Dean took another sniff, and wondered why that didn't bother him. It should. It really should. But the thought of being stripped by Sam just sent his heart racing. He bit his lip and looked at the clothes again. There was a story there, and only Sam would know it. 

*

An hour later, Dean was showered and feeling a lot better. One thing... he was thirsty as hell and couldn't get enough water. Plastic bottle in hand, he walked out of the house and came to a stop on at the empty drive. His car was gone. "Where the hell?" He ran to the street and started to look down the street. "Where the fuck's my car!" He was close to hyperventilating at the thought someone got their hands on his baby.


	6. Chapter 6

Sam had stayed by the window for the rest of the night, unable to go back over to Dean. His mind was awhirl with the memory, of Dean kissing him touching him. His body, the sensations running through him, every time he replayed each moment slowly, painfully slowly, he ached. His teeth, his head, his muscles, his groin all ached for the boy laying a few feet away, helpless to stop Sam from taking what he wanted as he slept blissfully unaware of the monster he had awakened. 

Finally, Sam had pushed open the window, needing to get out of there. Unable to breathe in Dean's scent a moment longer, unable to stand there as his mind viciously replayed everything over and over. He was beginning to think perhaps he was a bit of a masochist, the way he was torturing himself in that room. 

Sam had planned to call his brothers and sisters, ask them to go get Dean's car, but now, he vetoed that idea in favor of going to get it himself. The long run into the city of Seattle would do him good and he could feed on the way. Get his mind off Dean Winchester's lips and the feel of his body against him. That decision made, Sam had slipped from the room out the window without looking back. 

* * *

Sam frowned as he neared Dean's neighborhood, a sense of panic stealing through him once again, panic that was not his own but Dean's. Pressing the accelerator to the floor, tires squealing, Sam was pulling the Impala into Dean's driveway within moments, his eyes laser focused on Dean as he stopped the car and opened the door, sliding from behind the wheel almost before he had the car turned off. 

Dean was standing, bent over, hands on his knees as his breaths came fast and shallow. What the hell....? "Dean!?" Sam called to him as he headed toward him.

"My car!" Dean took another couple of breaths and then strode right past Sam to the Impala, walking around her and checking her out, before leaning his back against the passenger door and standing with one palm flat against the hood. "Thank God you're okay..." 

He let out another breath then looked over at Sam. "Did I give you permission to drive her?" he asked through gritted teeth, wondering if maybe he had in some drunken stupor. 

Sam turned to look at Dean, watching him go to his car, his brows furrowed as he watched Dean, had he lost his mind? He was _talking_ to his car. And he said that _he_ was crazy... 

Sam shook his head, "No, you didn't. Why?" he quirked a brow, tilting his head to the side, golden hazel eyes going from the car to Dean and back. 

"Because you're driving her, Goddamnit. Give me the keys," he demanded. Okay, shouting was not a good idea because it intensified the insistent thrum of his headache. And that reminded him of the big blank he had in his mind about the events of last night, calming his ass down. He looked up. "What happened, Sam?"

Sam held Dean's keys out toward him, jaw clenched as he stood stock still, looking at him, listening to Dean yell. "I thought I should get your car. Not leave it where it was." Sam answered him simply. 

He was pretty sure he was asking for more then that, but Sam wasn't going to offer too much about a bad experience, if Dean didn't come right out and ask it. Besides, he didn't want Dean knowing he'd killed those men. It was one thing to help him kill those vampires, but these were humans. If he just remained silent on the matter, maybe Dean would never know.

Pushing off the car, Dean grabbed the keys and pocketed them. Almost a month, he hadn't seen Sam at all and now he just appeared. "What happened. Last night. I know you were here, I can smell you on my..." He licked his lips. "Widow's open and... I can't fucking remember anything." 

Sam shrugged slightly, "Nothing. You were... too much to drink, I found you, brought you home and watched over you until morning when I went to get your car," he sighed, looking away.

Dean stared at him for a long time. He knew Sam was lying. "I don't get drunk when I'm..." Hustling. Did he even want Sam to know how he supported himself? "What happened. The truth, this time. Please." 

Sam clenched his jaw, eyes narrowing slightly, "I told you. I don't know what happened before I got there. Maybe you were pissed because you couldn't find a girl to fuck." His eyes narrowed more, "I helped you, now I'm done. I'll see you around, Dean." 

It hurt to hear that Dean didn't remember _anything_ , he knew, knew deep down that the kiss, the caresses had not been for him, had been something his drugged mind had simply eased him into, thinking he had had some girl in his bed. Not that Sam had ever been mistaken for a girl before... ever. 

He wasn't going to tell Dean about being drugged and nearly raped and he sure as hell wasn't going to tell him about what he had done to the men who had dared to touch him. Sam had had to scrub his hands and arms at home, changing his blood stained clothes, before he had been able to go to get Dean's car. It was enough that he'd had to tell his family what he had done, to see the looks, hear the questions. 'Did you feed?' 'You killed humans for _him_?'. At least his father and Alice had understood. 

Sam turned and started to walk past Dean, heading toward the woods behind his house, without saying another word.

"Did you tear my shirt?" His eyes drilled holes into Sam's retreating back.

Sam paused in his steps, jaw clenched, muscles tense, before he turned around, flashing angry black eyes, "No. _I_ would never touch you like that." Sam shook his head, "It won't happen again, I can promise you that." He turned back around, running off into the woods before Dean could ask anything more.

"What won't. What won't? Sam? Sam!" Dean started to chase him, then cursing, turned back. He was so tired of Sam blowing hot and cold. His goddamn moods made it hard to talk to him. One minute he was little Mr. sunshine, and the next he disappeared and wasn't talking to him for a month. "Fucking make up your mind," he muttered.

* * *

It was early evening when Dean drove into Seattle. The blank in his mind was driving him nuts and he needed to know what happened. So he cruised around the wharf where the rougher bars were located. He'd been in several, and was trying to retrace his steps. A long time ago, he'd learned that the rougher and seedier the club, the more likely he'd find people willing to bet on games. 

Slowing down near a red door, he remembered walking into that bar. It had been too quiet though, and he'd left. Pressing the pedal, he kept driving, giving the middle finger to some asshole who almost crashed into him and was yelling insults. "Bring it on..." Yeah he wasn't in a good mood.

Eventually he rolled in front of a place with yellow police tape across the door. There was a unlit neon sign above it that said 'billiards.' Yeah... he'd been here. Parking, he got out and headed straight for the door. Tearing off some of the tape, he bent down and worked the lock. Pocketing his tools, he pushed the door open, looked behind him, then sneaked inside.

Finding the light switch, he partially lit the place up. There were the pool tables. The bar. There had been music. He remembered winning the $300, and he knew he had it in his wallet. 

_Pretty boy_

Dean frowned. Someone had called him that? He walked to the bar and sat for a moment. Wiskey. He remembered metal mouth getting him one. Just one. But Sam said he'd been drunk. He had to have had a helluvalot more than one.

Pushing off the stool, he walked around, then he saw the back door. A cold, heavy sensation dropped low in his belly.

Outside, in the alley, his gaze swept over the chain link fence and down at the body tapes. There were blood stains all over the asphalt. He took a breath and flashed back. Rough hands. Fetid breath in his face. No....

He went to the fence and put his fingers through it, closing his eyes. Male hands tearing his shirt off, undoing his pant. "No... no Goddamnit," he ground out, denying the memories.

_"Come on... come on, fuck his mouth."_

"God no... please," Dean's fingers bit into the metal so hard he had cuts.

_"Billy... for fucks sake, fuck him."_

His chest rose and fell, his heart threatened to stop. And then there was Sam, and he was safe, and he could sleep. That was all he remembered, that and feeling warm, and being surrounded by Sam's unique smell. 

He looked down at the police tape and blood again, and whispered. "Thanks Sam." It was exactly what he would have done... wanted. Yeah he existed to save people from evil, but these people... these animals were evil. They deserved it.

* * *

After downing a lot of drinks, thanks to some guy's credit card, Dean found himself wrapping his arm around a brunette and walking her out of the bar. She had problems, he had problems, it was a match made in heaven. There was no better way to lose yourself. None. 

They kissed and stumbled and pushed and pulled all the way to her place, which was just down the street. By the time they got to her bedroom, their clothes were off and they were plastered against each other.

*

Sam had gone home, his mind filled with the memories of what Dean had done to him, the kiss, his tongue in his mouth, the way he had touched him, caressed him. 

Entering the house, Sam found all his brothers and sisters in the sitting room. He stood just inside the door, looking from one to the other, jaw clenched as he thought about asking them, talking to them about it. 

"Something wrong, Sam?" Alice asked him without looking up from her book. 

It was then, that he stepped into the room and sat down in a chair across from the others. "Can," golden hazel eyes looked from one to the next, "can I ask you all something?" he asked them, before clearing his throat nervously, "it's about sex." 

Each of his siblings slowly looked up at him from what they had been doing. 

"Uh," Sam looked down at the floor, "Last night, after I took Dean home, I laid with him in his bed." Sam told them. 

Emmett started to grin, as he sat forward, but Sam didn't notice. 

"He, uh, woke up at one point and kissed me." Sam told them, slowly looking up, "he put his tongue in my mouth." Golden hazel eyes look at each in turn "why?"

"Why, what?" Rosalie asked. 

Alice pressed her lips together to try to stop herself from smiling.

Emmett wanted to drag this out as long as possible. It wasn't very often you got a chance to talk to a vampire this 'innocent and naive.' 

Sam frowned at his blond-haired sister, before he glanced at the others, who were so not helping. "Why did he put his tongue in my mouth? I mean... was he... did I... what was I suppose to do?"

Rubbing his hands together, Emmett gave him a serious look. "Did he push his tongue in all the way, or was he... playing with your tongue? Was it a back and forth motion or side to side, you're going to have to be a lot more specific here."

"Not really," Jasper croaked, feeling waves of heat from Sam. He'd been subjected to too much of that lately as it was, and Emmett, that jerk, was setting Sam off on purpose.

Sam thought about what Dean had done, the feelings that had shot through him then, returning again, making Sam bite his lip and look way. 

Rosalie looked at Emmett and made a face, "If it was Dean, he should have just bit it." her beautiful face scrunched up like she smelled something bad. 

Sam's gaze moved quickly back to her, eyes slightly wider as he shook his head, "I didn't bite him. I didn't _do_ anything. I," he paused, licked his lips, "I didn't know what to do." He glanced at Emmett, "In and out," he answered, before hanging his head shyly.

"Deep enough to be checking your tonsils?" Emmett asked.

Alice glared at him. "Did you like it?" Just the fact that Sam had done nothing, but allowed himself to be touched by someone other than one of them was progress. She was starting to think that Dean Winchester wasn't as bad for him as some of the others thought.

Sam looked up over his brows, "No." he told his brother, "yes." he answered Alice, then dropped his gaze again, "I wanted... more. I..." he sighed and shook his head. "He started to touch me and I got scared. Thought I was going to drink, wouldn't be able to stop myself. He smelled so good..." 

"You shoulda sucked it." Emmett offered helpfully with a grin.

"Twisted your own tongue around his," Jasper said, sounding breathless as he took Alice's hand and threaded his fingers through hers.

"If you need to drink him, drink him and be done." Rosalie stared at him. "You're just torturing yourself with the inevitable."

"How did he touch you, Sam?" Having seen Sam interact with Dean, Emmett knew there was no way in hell his brother was going to drain Dean. The temptation would be there, but if there was any way he could stop himself, he knew Sam would. The more likely way he would hurt Dean was if the teen pushed Sam too far and got a taste of his temper. These days, Sam wasn't the calmest of the Cullens and humans broke so damned easily.

Sam stared at his sister for a long moment before tearing his gaze away and looking to his brother and licking his lips. "Well, uh, he ran his hands over me, and he, um," Sam sighed and ran a hand through his hair, pulling to his feet. "I don't think I can talk about this anymore." He shook his head, eyes darkening at the memory, "He didn't _mean_ it anyway. He doesn't even remember."

"He touched you and kissed you but doesn't remember?" Alice was a bit outraged at that. "He's in denial, or pretending or both. I'm going to have a talk with him."

"Good luck with that," Emmett practically laughed. "Sam, just grab him and kiss him ... make sure he won't forget." 

The corner of Sam's lips turned up at that thought, he nodded, "Yeah..." Sad part was, he wasn't even sure how to do that. 

Head hanging, Sam started to step through the room toward the stairs when he stopped, closing his eyes as waves of feelings crashed over him, feelings he knew were not his own. Lust, passion, desire so strong that the feelings took Sam breath away and he gasped audibly, his breathing ragged. 

"Sam?" Alice's voice. But he didn't look over as more feelings hit him, the feel of a tongue in his mouth, hands all over his body, caressing, touching him in ways Sam had never been touched before. 

When Sam raised his head, his eyes were inky black, blood pounded in his temples, anger and another emotion curled tightly in his belly. Fangs bared he turned back toward the door with a feral growl. 

"Sam!?" 

Again, he didn''t answer, but took off out the door at a dead run, heading for Dean's.

Getting up, Jasper pulled Alice with him to the stairs. His own eyes had gone inky black. "Come... he... I don't know how he can take it. I don't know how much longer I can take what _he's_ feeling," he growled.

Alice's perfect brows shot upward as she followed after Jasper, "Jasper?"

He couldn't get them into their room fast enough. "He wants him so bad. Half the time he wants... Aw fuck." Jasper pushed his lover up hard against the wall and pinned her wrists high above her head. "He wants him tied down. He doesn't know what to do, but he wants him like this." Jasper forced his knee between Alice's thighs and pressed his rock hard arousal against her. 

Alice's eyes widened, before darkening, a small gasp escaping as her back connected with the wall. Her body straining toward Jaspers she bit her lip. "Poor Sam," she said softly, breathlessly, before leaning her head forward slanting her mouth over her lovers.

"I think he hates himself. Ropes and chains... they remind him of that place and he can't believe he wants that for his... whatever. Alice," he lifted his head. "We need to play ‘tie up’, right now."

She gasped softly, eyes widening, at the thought of that. Sam wanting to do _that_ , hating himself. Jasper's words.... they were going to... " _Jasper!_ "

* * *  
Reaching Dean's home, he didn't jump up to his window, instead, breaking the front door down in his rage. His eyes closed tightly against the sensations rushing over him.

He could feel hands, a mouth, lips on his skin, moving across his flesh, down his body. Then... Sam's eyes snapped open, with a half groan half growl tearing from his throat as he staggered into Dean's living room, swinging an arm out, hitting and knocking over lamps, tables. Glass shattering to the floor. 

"Mine!" Sam growled loudly, grabbing the chair and throwing it across the room, followed by the mismatched sofa. Stuffings scattering, wood breaking, glass objects continuing to shatter as Sam tore the room to shreds in his rage as each new feeling ran over him. 

He didn't stop until there was nothing left, not a thing left to break to destroy, that was when he noticed that the feelings had subsided. That he no longer felt the overwhelming lust and desire, the hands and mouth, the warmth from a human body against his skin. He felt none of it now, though his anger remained. He knew what Dean had done. 

Slowly, Sam let himself drop, his knees giving out as he knelt on the floor in the middle of the mess that was once Dean's living room, head hanging. Blood pounded in his temples, his eyes were still an inky black and the feelings of anger and that other emotion.... jealousy, his father had called it... burned brighter than ever, but mixed in now, was hurt. A pain that made his still heart ache.

* * *

As he got out of the car, Dean knew he reeked of liquor and sex, and he loved it. So much better than those ugly thoughts that had been trapped in his head. Closing the door, he practically whistled as he walked up to the house.

When he reached the door and found it off it's hinges, he came to a sudden standstill. Who, or what had done this? Sobering, he pulled his gun out of his waistband and pushed what remained of the door. Leaving the lights off, he waited for his eyes to adjust and started to walk around. The ground was littered with broken furniture. Had someone been looking for something?

He listened for a hint of any sound, cocking his head when there was nothing. "Come out, come out, wherever you are," he said in a low, sing songy voice, challenging anyone or _anything_ that was around, but spoken so low that it wasn't really meant for anyone's ears. He glanced at the stairs.

Dark eyes watched Dean, as Sam clenched his hands into fists to keep from launching himself at Dean in his anger, his confusion, his hurt. He pressed his back tighter against the wall as he clenched his jaw, "You really think someone will come out to that?" his voice was low, unfriendly.

Dean swung the gun toward the voice, cocking the gun before he recognized the voice. "Sam?" His eyes flashed with anger as he walked to the door and hit the lights. Now he saw the full extent of the damage. "Goddamnit... Goddamn you, Sam. I know, this house, everything I have... it's nothing to you... but it's all I have...had. Goddamnit. . What the fuck is wrong with you?" he demanded, storming toward him and only stopping at the cold, severe expression he'd never seen Sam wear before.

"God already _has_ damned me, for the third time now. And _you_ are what's wrong with me." Sam told him, his voice cold, lip curling as he looked at Dean, "I know what you did. I felt... everything."

"I'm what's wrong with you? I haven't talked to you in three weeks, Goddammit. I wasn't here when you destroyed my house. How am I responsible for this, huh?" He tilted his head back. "Felt what Sam? Stop talking in riddles, stop lying to me, stop..." his hand swept around the room, "breaking shit. It may be shit, but it's my shit."

Sam grit his teeth, taking a step forward and then another as he glared daggers at Dean, "How are you responsible? You want to know what I felt?" Sam asked him as he continued forward, a venomous look on his face. "Fine! I'll tell you," the door that had all but fallen in suddenly moved, slamming shut and held.

Dean's head snapped toward the door. For the first time... ever... a slight sense of fear ran through him. He backed away, eyes focused on Sam, trying to reconcile that harsh look on his face with so many of his other expressions. It was impossible.

Pieces of the mess on the floor slid and scattered away as if tossed by an unseen force as Sam walked, the path he walked clearing just before he stepped, "I felt you with her. I felt her touch you, felt her tongue on you, felt warmth and..." Sam closed his eyes tightly, lips pressed together, looking as though he were in pain. Slowly, his eyes opened, "Be glad you weren't here when I got here."

The way the broken furniture flew off the ground and hit the walls as Sam walked made Dean think of Demons and their telekinetic powers. Instinctively, he tugged at the collar of his tee, half expecting to be slammed against the wall and choked by an invisible force, even with his tattoo. " _Christos_ ," he whispered, half knowing it wouldn't work, and stepping back, toward the door. 

His hand searched blindly behind him for the knob, but even as he tugged, he knew it wouldn't open. "I didn't do this to you Sam. I don't understand this." He licked his lips, trying to. Was Sam really talking about the girl he'd been with, or what? "It wasn't me that messed with your head, it was those people. I got you out," he reminded him, gripping the gun, knowing it would be useless.

Sam's eyes narrowed as he kept taking steps toward Dean, one for every two Dean took back, his inky black eyes never leaving him. Sam could feel his fear. He would have laughed at that. Dean being afraid of him, when all he had wanted to do was love him, but then, maybe he had reason to be afraid now, because the only thing Sam could think about was the sound of Dean's blood rushing through his veins, the way his heart pounded in his chest. 

He huffed and shook his head, "It's you, been you in my head since the night I saved you in that cave. Since the first time I bled on you." Sam's lip curled baring his fangs at Dean's reminder of saving him. Moving with sped there was no way for Dean to counter, Sam grabbed him by his tee and slammed him up against the door, pinning him there with his body, "And I saved you from getting raped last night," he told him through gritted teeth, "Laid with you, held you to keep you safe." his eyes narrowed as he leaned in, "What's the matter Dean? Need to go fuck a girl to get my taste out of your mouth?"

Dean pushed back, testing Sam's resolve, and when the vampire didn't budge, he had his answer. His breaths came harshly, his chest rising and falling as he gasped for air and put his hands between them, the gun laying flat against Sam's chest. The hard look in Sam's dark eyes had him swallowing. 

"I remember. The bar. Those men." But what happened later? He knew Sam had to have stripped him. He'd smelled Sam all over his pillow and himself. This time, it was his turn to look hurt. "What did you do? What Sam? I was drugged out and then you what? Kissed me?" That other man at the bar had threatened to stick his dick in his mouth. He closed his eyes. "Get off me."

Sam grit his teeth, "I never TOUCHED you!" he yelled at him, as he stood there, his face in Dean's. "Fucking bastard! YOU kissed me! YOU touched me!" he closed his eyes, hanging his head, but he didn't let go of Dean, "I never moved," his voice was softer, whisper quiet, "I didn't _do_ anything." slowly he raised his head and glared at Dean, shook his head as he leaned in, his mouth near Dean's ear, "Ros says I should have just bit your tongue, drank you dry." He ran the tip of his nose along Dean's jaw, before he pulled his head back only to do the same, going back toward his ear on the other side, "Maybe I'll do that now..." 

Dean's heart lurched when Sam shouted. He tensed, his fingers digging into Sam's chest as he pressed his head into the wall and listened. He didn't have any reason to doubt he was being told the truth. He remembered sensations... glimpses of a dream where he'd been kissing someone, someone who easily could have been Sam. 

He felt Sam's hard body shift against his, felt his breath fan over his cheek as he spoke, and was ashamed when a small groan broke out of him at how hard he was getting. Each time Sam touched him, tracing his jaw, heat swamped his body in waves. "Sam?" He licked his lower lip, then met dark eyes. Hunter and deer. Now he knew who Emmett was referring to as the deer. "Are you angry because I kissed you, or because..." Dean's suspicion was crazy, wasn't it? "Or because I kissed someone else?" 

Sam pulled his head back, dark eyes intent on green, "I told you that you didn't know what you were doing, who you were kissing. I wanted you to know... wanted you to know so much, but I knew you didn't." he leaned in again, letting go of Dean's shirt, he grabbed his wrists, inky black eyes going to the gun in Dean's hand, then to his face as Sam sneered, "Going to shoot me, Dean? Go ahead." he narrowed his eyes, slamming Dean's wrists up against the wall, high above Dean's head, making the gun fall from Dean' hand.

"Unh, sonova..." Dean grit his teeth, biting back a longer string of curses at the sharp pain and his inability to move the immovable force that was Sam. 

Sam narrowed his eyes, as he glanced toward the gun on the floor then looked back into Dean's face, "Guess you lost your chance." he smiled, but it wasn't friendly, just a flash of teeth, of fangs. 

Inky black eyes searched Dean's face, "I've always thought of you as mine, you know? It was different when you were young, but it was still there. The belief that you were, _are_ mine." he shook his head slowly, "Earlier, feeling that, knowing what you were doing..." Sam's lip curled as his features hardened, "I wanted to do like Ros said and drink you dry. Make you hurt like you hurt me."

Dean only understood part of what Sam was saying. He wanted to cut in, to ask questions, to make Sam see that he really didn't want to do this. That he hadn't saved him from those bastards at the bar just to kill him. That he hadn't watched over him for so long to be the instrument of his death. But the words died in his throat, and he wasn't so sure he was right.

Sam leaned in as he readjusted Dean's wrists, one on top of the other, as he held him pinned with one hand. His free hand moved to Dean's face, placing it against Dean's cheek, his thumb running over Dean's bottom lip. "I'm going to take what I want from you now," he told him softly, inky black eyes focused on Dean's lips, "I've never done this before," he glanced up into Dean's eyes, "But I'll try to make it good for you."

"No," Dean swallowed at the thought he'd be the first person Sam drained. Somehow this wasn't like his father's glorious death, fighting evil. This wasn't how it was meant to end. "I don't want to die. Pl..." 

Sam slowly leaned in, his eyes flickering to the pulse point at the base of Dean's throat, before he closed his eyes, a low moan escaping him. In a quick movement, Sam slanted his lips over Dean's, roughly pushing his tongue into Dean's mouth. Not sure of what to do once he got there, he heard his brother's instructions. 

_"Twist your own tongue around his..."_

Sam slid his tongue against Dean's ran his tongue against Dean's twisting it around Dean's slowly, tentatively. 

_Suck it._

Sam teased Dean's tongue, guiding it into his own mouth and trapping it there, sucking softly, slowly, as a moan escaped him, eaten up in their kiss.

Stiff as a board, at first Dean was waiting for pain. Instead, he found himself in the middle of a sloppy but forceful kiss. He wasn't gonna respond. He'd take the heat of Sam's anger, but he wouldn't feed it. Well that was the plan ... until Sam made that sound that sent blood straight to Dean's surging cock. A firestorm erupted between them, and Dean wanted more. Easily twisting his tongue free, he took control of the kiss, stroking Sam's tongue, and then exploring the heat of his mouth. He tried to make Sam let go of his wrists, and when that didn't work, he pressed his body closer, groaning with need. "You want to be touched Sam... there, I'm touching you. I know who you are... this what you want?" 

Sam was breathing hard like human's that ran too far too fast. Blood pounded in his temples, his teeth ached, and he was dizzy with the sensations he was feeling. He felt hot instead of his normal cold, which was impossible. His cock surged, his body aching for more. 

Dean didn't let Sam answer, taking his mouth again, stabbing his tongue inside and forcing Sam's tongue into a wild dance for control. Sam might have strength, but in _this_ , Dean was the master. He wanted to hear Sam make that sound again, he would hear it. Pulling away slightly, he made Sam chase him, tangling his tongue outside their mouths before sucking Sam's into his own. 

Sam knew he should stop this, stop it before things got anymore out of hand, but he didn't want to, didn't ever want this to end, wanted to kiss Dean, _his Dean_ forever. Sam moaned low, deep in this throat. 

Sensatiosn shot straight to his cock as Dean sucked his tongue, his bloodlust rising with it. If it hadn't been for his fear, his over whelming certainty that if he didn't stop right then, he wasn't going to.... Sam tore his mouth away from Dean's. "Stop! I can't! No more!"

"Shut up. You want this or not?" Dean finally managed to free his hands and put his arms around Sam's back. This time it was Dean doing the pushing, as he walked Sam backwards until he pushed him down onto the stairs and lowered over him. "You do, don't you Sammy. That's the problem, you want it so bad you destroy my house, you're ready to kill me for it, when all you have to do is _ask_." 

Covering Sam's mouth with his, Dean straddled Sam's thigh, one knee on the same stair as Sam's ass, the other lower. He leaned down, putting his full weight over the vampire and letting loose, kissing him like he'd kissed a hundred girls before. Like this was no different. Only it was, because he didn't have to imagine the need in golden-green eyes now darkened to black... they were right there, staring at him.

Did he want it? More than anything. Could he handle it without destroying Dean? Sam wasn't sure. He was breathing so quickly, passion mingled with his fear, fear for Dean, that had he been human, had he really _needed_ to breathe, he would have been hyperventilating. 

As Dean's mouth plundered his again, Sam's fingers curled around the edge of the stairs, holding on as hard as he could. If he had had a beating heart, it would have been hammering in his chest, as it was the blood was pounding relentlessly at his temples, his teeth aching worse than he could ever remember, even when he had been held, half drained. 

_Please God, make me strong enough. Don't let this end miserably. Don't let me hurt him._

Sam gazed up at Dean, when he finally drew back, and shook his head slowly, "Have to stop. I - I can't... I'm afraid."

Dean peeled himself off, pushing away from the stairs and taking deep breaths. He was wiping his thumb across his wet mouth as he turned back, swallowing hard at the sight of Sam looking like he should be spread out on a bed. A long silence stretched between them, one that Dean was a little afraid to break.

Sam stared up at Dean, unmoving, not breathing, just gazing up at him as he thought about what had just happened. 

Slowly, Sam licked his lips, stifled a moan, but not very well before tearing his gaze away, his eyes going toward the living room, then upward, above his head, toward Dean's room, before his gaze went back to Dean. "I - I should go." he stammered, though he made no move to leave.

He had the feeling Sam didn't know just what he wanted. Dean got that, he got it real well. He was half glad and half frustrated that they'd stopped where they had. He nodded, then cleared his throat. "Sam, you get that _this_ doesn't mean I'm... it doesn't mean we're..." He was tripping all over his tongue and he hated it. "When you said I'm yours... this... this doesn't mean that. It means there's some chemistry here, okay?" He brushed his hand through his hair. "Like if you kissed some other.... guy or... girl... it's, you know, a kiss. You get that?"

Sam's features slowly fell into an angry frown, his eyes narrowing as he pulled to his feet. "Yeah, I 'get it', you want to fuck around and you want me to be alright with the fact that I have to sit around feeling it all the time." He gave a curt nod, "Yeah... Ros was right," he mumbled as he walked to the door and opened it easily, holding it so it wouldn't fall over. "I should have bitten you." he mumbled before walking out.

Dean wiped his hand over his face and sat heavily down on the stairs, looking at the mess. "What the fuck do you want from me?" he shook his head. "Tried to give you what you wanted, but I'm not a liar, Goddammit." He never raised his voice. If Sam was outside, he'd hear. And if he was gone, then he was gone.

A few minutes later, he found himself shoving the only unbroken piece of furniture up against the door. It wouldn't hold anyone or anything out, but it would warn him if someone tried to get in. Dammit, he'd probably have to sleep in the safe room for the rest of the night.

He trudged up the stairs and into his room, tossing his jacket onto a chair. When he looked up, he faltered. Sam was just inside his window.

Sam stood, arms crossed over his chest, head hanging before he looked over at Dean, his face blank, though his eyes were still dark. "I never asked you to lie." Sam told him softly.

He looked and sounded so damned vulnerable now that it pulled at heartstrings Dean didn't even know he had. The contrast between this lost boy, and that furious man that had greeted him downstairs made it hard to believe they were the same person.

Just like that, he crossed the room and closed his arms around Sam's stiff body, giving him a tight hug. "Sometimes things look worse than they are because of the way you interpret them. Sometimes you think you're falling off the edge or doing so much worse than the next guy or like everyone's dumping on you... life is dumping on you, but if you look around, its not always the truth." 

Sam slowly uncrossed his arms from over his chest as Dean started to hug him, but he didn't hug him back, only stood stiffly, unmoving until Dean spoke, then he quirked a brow at his words.

He searched Sam's face before kissing him on the mouth lightly, his tongue penetrating only just passed Sam's teeth before he pulled away. "If you're feeling confused, you're not the only one. Feeling's mutual... I've never kissed a guy before." He took a deep breath. "But just so there's no confusion here, I kissed you because I wanted to. Not because you scared the crap out of me... which you did ... but the kiss was because I wanted to." It was true. Those guys who'd grabbed him had scared him, wanted to force him, but there was no way he would have given them anything they didn't take. He'd said he would bite that guy's dick off and he'd meant it. If the drugs hadn't slowed him down, he'd have insulted them until the moment he couldn't.

Sam gave a small nod, his jaw clenched. "And I think you're wrong, by the way." he told him softly. Sam shook his head, "It's not the way I interpret them. Life _is_ dumping on me... again. It did when I found out I could heal... again when I found out it didn't work on everyone, again the day I was turned into what I am, once again when I found my family slaughtered, and probably the worst when I drank from my baby sister. I didn't think it could get any worse than that, until now. Until you."

Making note that Sam had said his family was dead before he drank from his sister, Dean sensed the revulsion Sam felt over his actions. And yet they both knew how hard he had to fight against the need for blood, and how few vampires won that fight even when they tried. She hadn't been his victim, he'd been a victim of circumstance.

Dean nodded, "you've had a lot of bad things... evil things happen to you. Maybe the longer you live, the more there's the opportunity for that sort of thing piling up, you know? I'm sorry if _I'm_ the worst of it... last in that line of..." his throat constricted at the thought that he was making Sam feel worse than everything before, even imprisonment by those monsters, probably. 

"You're off the hook. Your promise to my mother, you're off the hook." He squeezed Sam's arms and pulled away, then turned. "I know I owe you a lot, for the times you saved me. For that, thank you." He shrugged, cause what else could he give Sam or tell him?

Sam slowly shook his head, "You don't have that power. Only your mother can take that away," he told him softly, "But, you're right, I won't be the one watching you anymore. Emmett, Jasper, Alice, Rosalie, Edward when he comes back, they'll do it for me." He turned away, looking out the window, "I won't be here any more after tomorrow. I think I need to leave town. Get away." He exhaled slowly, "It was my father's idea... I didn't know then where I would go, but now I think I do." 

He turned back and looked at Dean, "Watching you isn't what is so hard, what hurts me so much." he told him softly, "It's not fair that when I finally find someone I'm interested in, they..." he shrugged, turning back toward the window. "I'll get my family to bring you new furniture. Everything will be taken care of before I leave."

" _No._ ” The single word was like the crack of a whip. “You don't have that power either. You don't get to substitute." Dean's jaw ached. "You tell them, all of them, to keep away from me. They're not in this Sam. No one else is inserting themselves in this, you got that." It was unsettling, the thought of Sam gone forever. Even when he'd kept away for weeks on end, Dean had the feeling he was right there... somewhere. And he had to have been right because he wouldn't have been there in Seattle unless he followed. But now he was gonna leave. Forever.

Striding to his bed Dean sat down. "You know what's not fair? You and your goddamned half answers, and your guessing games. Until five minutes ago, I didn't even know you wanted anything from me other than my delicious-chocolate-raspberry-with-a-touch-of-whipped-cream-and-cherry-on-top _blood_ , and now you're upset because I don't know how to exactly feel about it? Fine. Go... just don't send your posse after me because make no mistake, I am a hunter. Just because I haven't put my mind to stopping you from being here, doesn't mean I won't to them."

Sam's eyes had followed every movement Dean made as he stood silently, listening to him. "If they don't watch you, I can't leave." he told him softly, "And you can't hurt them." The corner of his lips turned upward, "It might actually be funny to watch you try," he shook his head, "but you can't."   
Hi face fell again, as he hung his head once more, "It isn't that I am upset that you don't know how to feel." He was silent for a long moment before he finally looked up, "I _should_ hope you will tell me to go away and never come back. That would be the smart thing, the _angelic_ thing for me to want you to say. But, I guess that I'm not an angel after all, because that's _not_ what I want you to say... but it terrifies me. If you don’t say that, don’t tell me to go away," he shook his head, "I don't know that I would be able to resist very long." he nodded toward the stairs, "Especially if..." he didn't finish, as he looked down shyly.

Dean let out a frustrated sigh. "I didn't tell you to leave, that was your idea and your father's apparently." He believed in close-knit families, but the Cullens really crossed the line with too much information. "I am not gonna tell you what to do, it's your life. You can stay. We can try to work through this... whatever this is, I still don't know what... why you're upset, and this... the guessing game's gotta stop." 

Bending down, he started to remove his boots. "Oh, whatever's your decision, I still don't want my place crawling with Cullens. You think a physical fight is what I had in mind," he laughed in the exact way that Sam did when he was mocking him. "Nah. I would leave a trail that leads the boys in blue straight from that bloody alley at the Seattle bar to their door. Wouldn't kill 'em, wouldn't want to. But it would get them out of my hair," he looked at Sam. "I told you, I'm not that _boy_ anymore."

Sam looked back at Dean, dark eyes staring intently at him. So he had made an exception for him? That was a good sign... wasn't it? He supposed that all depended on how you looked at it. Was it a good thing to toss piranhas into your swimming pool? The piranhas might think so.

He raised an eyebrow, "That's too bad. It was memories of _him_ that got me through those five years." Well, that and thinking about Alice, but he didn't need to tell Dean that.

Dean smiled. "I'm glad _he_ helped you some way. But if he hadn't turned into me, you might still be there. You have to take the good with the bad." He toed off his boots. "And _he_ wouldn't know anything about..." he nodded toward the stairs, bringing his gaze back to Sam's slightly flushed face. Who knew vampires blushed? Or that you could be jealous of your own self at a younger age? 

Sam wasn't sure what else to say right then, and apparently God was smiling on him for once as his cell rang, breaking the awkward silence that had fallen. 

Pulling his cell from his pocket, Sam flipped it open. "Hi, Alice." he glanced at Dean, "No, I'm okay. Yeah, Dean's okay too."

Dean rolled his eyes. "I'd call that a slight exaggeration."

"What did you do to him?" she asked. "Hold on, everyone wants to hear." Alice hit the speaker button.

"I -" Sam sighed, "everyone?" he waited, "Hi, Emmett, Jasper, Ros... Okay, well, I trashed his living room." 

"Trashed his living room?" Rosalie asked. 

"Yeah, I was..." Sam glanced at Dean, "angry." 

"It's better than him trashing Dean." Emmett interjected. 

"Then what?" Jasper asked him. 

"Uh, Dean came home... and we argued. We ended up kissing.... again." Sam answered. 

"Did you suck his tongue?" Emmett asked him. 

"Yeah, I sucked his tongue like you told me, but I don't think I did very well." Sam told him, frowning as he started to pace in a small area. 

"Shoulda just bit it." Rosalie interjected with distaste.

Dean's eyes tracked Sam as he paced back and forth, his mouth dropping open at the TMI. "What the hell, Sam?" he hissed.

"Your human is getting flustered," Ros pointed out. "Did you make sure he knows how lucky he is to be alive?"

Emmett shook his head. "Knowing him, he's pissed off that his excuse for furniture is trashed."

"Did he kiss you back? Sam, did you like it?" Alice asked, wishing she could see his face and really evaluate his responses.

"How about touching, was there touching? At this rate he's gonna be an old man before you get anywhere, Sam."

Alice glared at Emmett.

Sam sighed, frowning, "Um, No, Ros, I didn't tell him that he's lucky to be alive, I think he knows that." Sam glanced at Dean, "Well, yeah, Emmett, he _is_ pissed that his furniture is trashed." Sam smiled, "Yes, Alice, he kissed me back and yes," Sam nodded, "I liked it." Sam glanced at Dean, "Yeah, there was touching. I pinned his wrists against the wall, but it got too intense and I was afraid of feeding.... I broke it off, but... it didn't stop. He ended up walking me backward to the stairs. He pressed his dick against my thigh, kissed more. So, uh, what did I do wrong? I mean, I should have done something, right?"

"What the hell?!" Dean shot off the bed and made a 'zipping' motion across his mouth. "Dude... seriously, private information."

"Is he being shy? Tell him if he goes pressing his cock into your thigh, he can't be THAT shy." Alice smirked. 

Sam smiled slightly before glancing Dean's way, "Yeah, he's being shy." He looked at Dean, "Alice says if you are going to press your cock into my thigh, you can't be _that_ shy." He returned his attention to the call. "Here, lemme put you all on speaker so Dean can hear."

"Yeah you should have done something. Exactly what... well that, I think you need to ask the girls," Emmett coughed.

"Did you get hard? Hi mom," Jasper made room for Esme on the couch.

"Did who get hard, Sam, just what is that Winchester boy up to? Is he playing nice?" Esme demanded

Dean's eyes widened, having heard the last couple of exchanges very clearly. "Mom?" he mouthed, his face now flushing as brightly as Sam's had been earlier. "Hang up... shut the phone," he hissed.

Sam shook his head at Dean, "Hi, Mom. Dean's embarrassed because you're here for my sex talk. We're talking about what Dean and I did earlier. " Sam told her. 

"Yeah, Jasper, I got hard, what do you think?" Sam huffed and rolled his eyes.

"Did you tie him up?" Jasper asked.

It got quiet on both ends of the phone line, Dean staring at Sam, and Sam's family staring at the phone, waiting on an answer.

How was he supposed to answer that? He never _told_.... but then, with Jasper, he wouldn't have to. Sam swallowed and tore his gaze away from Dean, "Uh, I... no." he answered finally, clenching his jaw, his free hand curling into a fist.

"Did you take your clothes off, either of you?" Esme asked "Sam?"

Dean made a 'hang up' sign again. "This is worse than getting cross examined by the father of any date I've ever had. We didn't do ANYTHING. Just a kiss, alright? Go on about your lives, doing what vampires do when they're not sticking their noses into other peoples' business!"

Sam sighed and looked down at the phone, "He's right. It ended there. I didn't know what to do and I was afraid. I wanted to feed so bad that it hurt... well, more than usual. Look, Dean's getting pissed, I better go. I'll talk to you all later. Maybe I just need to masturbate. Anyway, we'll talk more later, love you all." Sam closed the cell and looked at Dean, "Happy?"

No sound came out of Dean's mouth though he was trying to shout. He hadn't... he hadn't just told his family that he should... Yeah he had. Dean couldn't, even for a quarter of a second, imagine talking sex with his father. 'Be careful and use a condom' were the only things that had passed between them on the topic of sex. Still, Dean wasn't by any means uptight about sex but this was ridiculous. "You know when I said your family is looney... I was right. No one chit chats about..." he wagged his finger between the two of them, "like in a group chat, especially with parents. Jesus, Sam. Next they were gonna ask about length and thickness."

Sam frowned, "Nah, they'd wait till I could answer that." he told him with a shrug, "And why does 'no one' chit-chat about sex? It's natural. You do it, it's like eating," he shrugged again, "or feeding." he eyed Dean, "I guess it's because your human and human's are uptight about that kind of thing. The _talking_ about it anyway." He gave Dean a pointed look.

"That's ridiculous. I talk about sex, it's just not something you talk about with parents, grandparents and fricken cousins... don't look at me like that, _you_ would if you had 'em." He shook his head. "Also, if you can talk so openly with them, how come I have to drag stuff out of you? Talk about uptight, you're uptight with the one person you should be able to talk about this stuff with."

Sam frowned at him, "You wouldn't understand the things I have to say. They do. They're vampires. If I tell you that when you kiss me, touch me, get close to me, and I can smell you that I want to do so many things to you that I can't even tell one from the other anymore, that I want to possess you... to have you in every way possible... what advice would you give me?" Sam quirked a brow, then gave a nod, when Dean didn't say anything, "Exactly, because you don't know _what_ to tell me. They do."

"Right, let's see... Rosalie tells you to drink me, and Jasper says to suck on my tongue. Yeah Sam, they have better advice than me." He ran his hand through his hair. "What you just said... wanting to do things, to possess, to own... that's normal, minus the blood thing. It's just a matter of degree for the rest, but it's always there when you're having sex. There's competition too. When you're interested in someone, and someone else is too... your antennas go up, and suddenly you want to prove yourself to both of them, you know? But you have to find a balance... know how far to go. How's that for advice?"

"Human." Sam told him, jaw tense, before he huffed, "You think I don't know about not going too far?" he shook his head, "I struggle with that everyday, Dean. Not a news flash for me." He shook his head and pocketed the cell he had been turning over and over in his hand, "And _they_ know how to tell me what I need to do about that balance. Ros," he shrugged, "She just doesn't like you. To her you're not good enough for me." He grinned slightly, "My family is over protective, because of..." he waved a hand. "And it was Emmett who said to suck your tongue. Jasper told me to twist my tongue around yours." He shrugged, "Just so you know."

"I'd like to twist my tongue around your--" Dean looked up to the heavens, as if he'd ever gotten any help from that quarter. "So. Where does this leave us?"

Sam frowned and quirked a brow as he studied Dean's face, looking for answers as to what he was going to say there. "Wondering what you were going to say. Around what?" Sam tilted his head, "Should I call them back again?" he reached back to grab his cell.

"Sam?" When Sam didn't stop, Dean tackled him without thinking, rolling on top of him. "Uh uh, you stop that... calling them every second, dammit. Sometimes a private conversation is that... private. Jeez." He had his hand around Sam's wrist, holding the phone. Blowing a breath out, he started to get up, his shoulders shaking at the hilarity of the situation.

Sam hadn't really been paying attention to what Dean was saying, he wanted to know what he had been _going_ to say, and his siblings all would have a better idea than he did. One minute he was pulling his cell from his pocket and the next, Dean was plowing into him, knocking them both backward onto the floor. It wouldn't have worked if Sam had actually been expecting something like that, but it hadn't even entered into his mind that Dean would do such a thing, so over they both went. 

Sam stared up at Dean as he started to pull up, brow quirked, "Are you... laughing?"

"Yeah, why? Is that illegal?" He put his hand out. "You're not baring your teeth about it, are you? Just a friendly wrestle..."

Sam looked at the hand Dean offered him, then back at his face, "I use that to get up and you'll be back down here again... but thanks," He told him as he pulled to his feet without using Dean's hand. "And no, nothing wrong with you laughing, just haven't seen it. I remember that cute little blond-haired boy doing it," he shook his head, "but not you."

"Maybe it runs in the family." His dad hadn't been much of a laugher, after his mom had died anyway. Dean didn't really agree with Sam, but telling him that it was only because Sam kept pushing all his buttons would just start another argument. "I'm gonna take a shower. You can take it with me, no strings," he gave Sam a look that said he meant that, and started to head for the bathroom.

His eyes had lightened back to their normal golden hazel talking with his family, they always seemed to calm him, but now they were darkening again as he thought about Dean's offer. Sam looked from Dean's back, as he walked toward the bathroom, down to the cell in his hand. Okay, _this_ would be a good time to call... but he knew he didn't have time to hear all four of his siblings argue about what he should do, bicker with each other and finally agree on a course of action to tell him to take. He was on his own for this one. Dammit. 

Sliding his cell into his pocket, he followed after Dean, stopping at the bathroom door, head bowed, "I, uh, you obviously know that I've never...." he looked up, his face a soft shade of pink, "Add this to that list too."

Sam practically filled up the small doorway. Dean felt his heart thud as he turned to look at him. "That a ‘yes’?" his hand went to his own shirt, and he started unbuttoning, never taking his eyes off Sam's face.

Sam's eyes went to the shower, then back to Dean as he sucked his bottom lip into his mouth, "I don't know if I can resist... I mean... the urge to feed, if..." he shifted his weight. Darkened golden hazel meeting green, "Just don't touch me. Alright? If you don't touch me, I think I'll be okay."

Dean pointedly looked at the small shower, then back at Sam. "Ah... sure. It must be a handy trick... shrinking down to fairy size. I didn't think vampires could do that," he grinned. "Pull my shirt off, Sam."

Sam slowly raised his hands, fingertips coming to rest on Dean's shoulders as he hooked his thumbs under the material of Dean's shirt, dark golden hazel gazing into green as Sam slowly, peeled back Dean's shirt. His hands moving let it fall off his shoulders. Once the shirt was off, Sam took a half step back and let out a breath. "Well... got that far without going all vampy," he muttered softly.

Checking out his eyes, Dean nodded. "Not vampy. If it's any consolation, I haven't done this before either. Showered with a guy. Or kissed one. Oh, and in case you're wondering, fucked one." He gave a shrug, "might be best to just get all of that out there. I’ll admit that I've masturbated to thoughts of one guy... well, his eyes." Satisfied that he'd done his part for honesty, Dean reached into the shower and got it started.

Sam frowned at Dean as he watched him turn on the water, his hands going to the buttons of his own shirt. He started to slip the shirt off his shoulders, had it half way there, when Dean looked back, "What guy?"

"I didn't know his name. Last time I saw him, I was about... thirteen. There was something in his eyes... a hunger. A vampire probably wouldn't understand these things." He unzippped his jeans and pushed them down his hips, stepping out of them. "Yeah, I was in the desert and he was staring at me. It's the first thing I ever jerked off to. I didn't get it... not then, and maybe not even later." His gaze swept over Sam, he bit his lower lip at the sight of his shirt now hanging open and revealing well-defined muscles. "Maybe if he'd been half naked, I'd have been interested in something other than his eyes."

Sam let his shirt drop to the floor as he stared at Dean, a slightly shocked expression on his face. He had... about him...?   
Sam gazed into Dean's eyes as his own slowly started to darken, his mind swirling with the images that evoked, Dean getting off to the look in his eyes... 

He remembered that night, remembered the hunger. How badly he wanted to take, to drink... He licked his lips, his hands going to the button and zipper of his jeans though his now black eyes stayed focused on Dean's brilliant green ones. "Maybe if it were today... and he wasn't afraid of that hunger.... maybe he would have been naked." Sam suggested softly.

"Maybe he should stop being afraid, and just live. Pretend he's human and that his days are numbered. Live every day." Reaching out, Dean hooked his fingers into the waistband of Sam's jeans at his sides, he started to pull them down. "Technically, I'm not touching." He looked up as he bent down, dragging Sam's jeans to the ground. The urge to ignore the warning completely and kiss his stomach made his mouth burn.

Sam's eyes followed Dean's movements, his body tensing as Dean hooked his fingers in the waistband of his jeans, jaw clenching. He watched as Dean pulled his jeans down, his hands curling into tight fists at his sides. The desire to reach down, to pull Dean up and kiss him, to feel his lips against his own, his tongue in his mouth again had Sam stifling a moan.

"My eyes aren't saying 'go' right now," he told him softly, licked his lips and took a step back out of his jeans, a step away from temptation.


	7. Chapter 7

Sam's eyes went to the shower, then back to Dean as he sucked his bottom lip into his mouth, "I don't know if I can resist... I mean... the urge to feed, if..." he shifted his weight. Darkened golden hazel meeting green, "Just don't touch me. Alright? If you don't touch me, I think I'll be okay."

Dean pointedly looked at the small shower, then back at Sam. "Ah... sure. It must be a handy trick... shrinking down to fairy size. I didn't think vampires could do that," he grinned. "Pull my shirt off, Sam."

Sam slowly raised his hands, fingertips coming to rest on Dean's shoulders as he hooked his thumbs under the material of Dean's shirt, dark golden hazel gazing into green as Sam slowly, peeled back Dean's shirt. His hands moving let it fall off his shoulders. Once the shirt was off, Sam took a half step back and let out a breath. "Well... got that far without going all vampy," he muttered softly.

Checking out his eyes, Dean nodded. "Not vampy. If it's any consolation, I haven't done this before either. Showered with a guy. Or kissed one. Oh, and in case you're wondering, fucked one." He gave a shrug, "might be best to just get all of that out there. I’ll admit that I've masturbated to thoughts of one guy... well, his eyes." Satisfied that he'd done his part for honesty, Dean reached into the shower and got it started.

Sam frowned at Dean as he watched him turn on the water, his hands going to the buttons of his own shirt. He started to slip the shirt off his shoulders, had it half way there, when Dean looked back, "What guy?"

"I didn't know his name. Last time I saw him, I was about... thirteen. There was something in his eyes... a hunger. A vampire probably wouldn't understand these things." He unzippped his jeans and pushed them down his hips, stepping out of them. "Yeah, I was in the desert and he was staring at me. It's the first thing I ever jerked off to. I didn't get it... not then, and maybe not even later." His gaze swept over Sam, he bit his lower lip at the sight of his shirt now hanging open and revealing well-defined muscles. "Maybe if he'd been half naked, I'd have been interested in something other than his eyes."

Sam let his shirt drop to the floor as he stared at Dean, a slightly shocked expression on his face. He had... about him...?

Sam gazed into Dean's eyes as his own slowly started to darken, his mind swirling with the images that evoked, Dean getting off to the look in his eyes...

 

He remembered that night, remembered the hunger. How badly he wanted to take, to drink... He licked his lips, his hands going to the button and zipper of his jeans though his now black eyes stayed focused on Dean's brilliant green ones. "Maybe if it were today... and he wasn't afraid of that hunger.... maybe he would have been naked." Sam suggested softly.

"Maybe he should stop being afraid, and just live. Pretend he's human and that his days are numbered. Live every day." Reaching out, Dean hooked his fingers into the waistband of Sam's jeans at his sides, he started to pull them down. "Technically, I'm not touching." He looked up as he bent down, dragging Sam's jeans to the ground. The urge to ignore the warning completely and kiss his stomach made his mouth burn.

Sam's eyes followed Dean's movements, his body tensing as Dean hooked his fingers in the waistband of his jeans, jaw clenching. He watched as Dean pulled his jeans down, his hands curling into tight fists at his sides. The desire to reach down, to pull Dean up and kiss him, to feel his lips against his own, his tongue in his mouth again had Sam stifling a moan.

"My eyes aren't saying 'go' right now," he told him softly, licked his lips and took a step back out of his jeans, a step away from temptation.

"Okay." He stood up. "Come in, whenever you want." Dean stepped into the shower, closing the glass door. Inside, he pushed his now wet shorts off and kicked them to the corner. _Now_ he was remembering that the night Sam had broken his window, he'd been taking a shower. Fighting the urge to steal a glance and see how the vampire was doing, he let the water rush over his face, arching back slightly.

Sam nodded, teeth clenched against the ache as he watched Dean get into the shower. Inky black eyes never left Dean as he got under the water. The sight of Dean arching his back had a soft groan passing through Sam's slightly parted lips.

 

Running a hand through his hair and taking a breath, Sam tried to relax a little, but it didn't work very well. Tucking his thumbs into the waistband of his boxers, Sam slipped them off and opened the shower door, stepping inside. "Arching your back is another, on the list of things you can't do," Sam told him, keeping his eyes averted.

"Uptight vamps, so many fucking rules," Dean smirked, turning but careful not to touch Sam who was to his side, slightly behind him. Unlike Sam, he had no problems looking. For someone who'd never thought anything about the male form, he was about ready to give a wolf whistle. "No touching, right?" That was more for himself, a reminder that no, he couldn't run his hands over Sam, couldn't map out the indentations of his muscles, or pull him closer by his ass. He swallowed and forced himself to pick up the soap and start washing himself.

Sam's eyes slid back to Dean's face at his question, he nodded his head slowly, jaw clenched, hands curled into fists at his sides, his body was tense as he stood still as a statue, even as the water hit him. 

 

His eyes moved to the bar of soap in Dean's hand, watched as it traveled over the muscled expanse of his chest, up to his board wide shoulders, his arms. Watched as Dean washed his hard, well toned stomach, then his gaze went lower, before he tore his gaze away quickly, and took a step back, or tried to, only to connect with the shower wall. Dean was right, it _was_ too small.

 

Raising a hand he ran it through his wet hair, pushing it away from his face, out of his eyes, making it plaster to his head. A moment later, he couldn’t resist. Sam looked over at Dean then, his dark gaze focused on his face.

 

It was _that look_. Dean's chest constricted and the soap dropped from his nerveless fingers. He wanted to shove Sam back and kiss him, like he had on the stairs. That he was good at... action. But standing around, not touching, not able to give in to his body's needs, that was a novel experience for Dean. And a little awkward. "Doing alright?" he asked, hardly moving because if he did move, they'd touch.

Sam didn't answer as he continued to just gaze at Dean, his mind thinking of how badly he wanted to press Dean back against the shower wall, run his hands over his wet naked skin, touch, caress, discover. Find out what he liked, what made him moan, what made him feel hunger, need, like Sam felt around him all the time. _Minus the blood thing._

 

He thought about pressing his lips to Dean's, thrusting his tongue into his mouth and doing what they had done earlier, making him suck on his tongue again as he held Dean there against the wall, arms trapped as he did what he wanted, took what he wanted. And then he'd run his tongue along the artery in his neck, feel the blood pumping through his veins, match the pulses under his tongue with the sound of Dean’s beating heart that constantly tortured him. And God help him, he wouldn't be able to not drink. It would be too sweet a temptation. With a mumbled apology, he'd dip his head as he ran his free hand over Dean's body, to that area he liked to be touched most, distracting Dean as he slowly sank his fangs in. He knew, _knew_ beyond a shadow of a doubt, that Dean would taste even better than he smelled. And he knew that with the first taste of copper on his tongue, he would be lost.

 

A strangled groan broke from Sam, as his fisted hands clutched at the shower walls, his eyes slowly meeting Dean's. "You..." he nodded stiffly, "should go. Now." He was trembling as he stood fighting off the feelings, the need to possess, the desire to own, to mark and take. His teeth ached so bad, so bad it was good, the blood pounded so loud in his temples he could barely hear anything else. _Oh, God... this was a bad idea...._

The argument that had been on the tip of Dean's tongue died as he recognized the depth of Sam's internal struggle. He saw his fingers digging into the tile, and pressed back, trying to slide around him as he got out. "Don't break the tile. Come out whenever you're ready," he said in an encouraging tone, stepping out and closing the door.

Grabbing a towel, he wrapped it around his body and walked out, using a smaller towel to wiped down his face. When he sat down on his bed, the urge to jerk off was almost overwhelming. But he knew Sam would hear him, and that he was already on the edge. "Alright, blue balls never killed anyone," he grumbled, getting up again putting some shorts and a tee shirt on. He found himself standing where he could see Sam, watch him. 

 

As soon as Dean was gone from the room, Sam let out a breath, feeling like his knees could have buckled.

 

Taking a slow heavy step, he moved forward under the spray of the water, head back, he let the water hit him in the face, before he leaned forward, bracing his hands on the tile in front of him, head bowed as he breathed slowly, tried to get a handle on the feelings coursing through him. Slowly, he bent one arm, letting his forearm rest against the tile as he buried his face against it.

 

Oh God, how could he ever have thought he could do this. He couldn't even watch Dean work on a car, let alone _shower_ with him. Somehow, after what he'd felt, what they'd had earlier, he had wanted it again so badly, he'd dared to believe, believe that as long as Dean didn't touch him he would be okay, that his mind, his hunger would do their part and stay quiet, that everything would be okay.

Holy fuck... The way the muscles of Sam's broad back rippled as he moved around. Dean's gaze traveled down to his much narrower waist, and lower, to his tight ass and the strong pillars of his legs. What would it have felt like if they could have slid against each other? He'd liked pressing his cock against sam's thigh on the stais, but what about... what if they'd really touched? The thought of Sam's large hand wrapping around his cock as he looked at him with dark eyes had Dean moaning, and his heart racing all over again. Yeah, he had to get it under control before Sam got out.

Sam reached blindly for the knobs to turn the faucet and turned off the water, but he still didn't move. His forehead leaning against the tile his arm bent against it he stood there, eyes closed, waiting. Waiting to be able to at least get dressed and get out of there without doing something he would regret.

 

Slowly, Sam pulled away from the tile as the shower door opened as if on it's own. His clothes slid across the floor to the shower's edge, before he bent and picked them up, not bothering to dry off, Sam started to pull on his clothes.

 

A few moments later, Sam was stepping out of the bathroom, fully dressed and soaking wet. "I have to go." he said stiffly, as he walked toward the window, not even looking at Dean.

"Sure." Dean answered just as tightly. He didn't know what he'd expected but he knew this wasn't it. He looked miserably at the still wet vampire whose clinging clothes just made him look that much hotter, and that much more off-limits. 

Reaching the window, Sam opened it and paused, his back to Dean, "I'm sorry." he told him softly, head hanging. He pulled his head up, looking out into the night, "I need to feed," he looked over his shoulder at Dean. "I'll see you around." He tried to smile, it was only a small upturning of the corner of his mouth, barely even there, but it was all he had.

"Happy hunting." He waited for Sam to jump out, then walked to the window quickly enough to see a flash of his shirt as he disappeared into the woods behind a neighbor's place. Pulling the window shut, he locked it. If Sam had stayed, he wouldn't need to go to the basement. But it had been obvious the vampire was too on edge to be able to do that and Dean wasn’t about to sleep in an unsecured house.

Grabbing his blanket and a pillow, Dean trudged downstairs, trying not to look at the mess in the living room, and heading straight for the safe room in the basement. Pulling the heavy iron steel door open, he shut it behind him and locked it. Sighing out loud, he tossed his stuff onto a cot and sat down. He had a lot to deal with, but it was late and he was so damned tired now. Even if he hadn't had sex with Sam, the emotional rollercoaster made it feel like they'd gone ten rounds.

He lay back, leaving a low light on. His gaze swept across the walls. Weapons, ropes, chains, all sorts of protective gizmos lined the walls. His gaze went back to the chains that hung off a hook and gave off a strange bluish gleam. Those were... He jackknifed up. Those were the kind of chains that had been on Sam at that facility. Where had his dad gotten them? Maybe if he tracked that down... he'd find _those_ people.

Yeah, there had been a good chance he wouldn't get to school because he'd be sleeping in. Now he was certain he wouldn't make it to school. He had more important things to check out. Good thing dad was a good record keeper. Rubbing his eyes, he dropped back down, hunting plans swirling in his mind when his thoughts weren't interrupted by memories of Sam's scent and his taste in his mouth.

* * *

He'd gorged himself on his hunt. Taken more than his fill of deer. Enjoying the thrill of the chase, the cool breeze on his skin had helped to dampen the fires that were blazing out of control inside him.

 

It wasn't until he had finished, his body feeling more at ease and he felt more like himself, that Sam allowed himself to concentrate on Dean, worried that he was upset due to his quick and sudden departure, only to find nothing there. It wasn't only that Dean wasn't thinking about it, or was asleep, or wasn’t going through some emotional upheaval. As long as the link between them was intact, there was only one thing that could make this happen, that he knew of, only one thing that could make him feel _nothing_ coming from Dean... his death.

 

Fear and panic gripped Sam's chest as he pulled to his full height from where he was sitting on the forest floor. He had to get back to Dean's. Had to see for himself, find out what had happened in the short time he had been gone. Dean was at home after all, how could something bad happen at ho -... and then Sam remembered the broken door. Anything or anyone could have gotten into the house.

Sam took off like a shot back toward Dean's jumping over fallen logs and small streams, making animals scatter out of his way as he rushed through the woods.

 

When he finally reached Dean's house, Sam didn't bother with the door, jumping up to the bedroom window, he focused on the lock and the window, opening both and leaping inside.

 

He searched the room, sniffing Dean's scent, tracking him, as he tried to fight back the ever growing panic inside. He followed it down the stairs, through the living room, only half noticing that a piece of furniture was blocking the broken door. "Dean!"

 

He continued to another door and stairway he had never seen before and down. Dean's scent ended at a metal door in the basement. Frowning, Sam reached out and tried the handle, but it was locked. He pounded on the door with his fist, as thoughts, memories of the underground facility flashing before his eyes, with their steel doors and locks. "Dean!"

The muffled sounds were irritating at first, then downright annoying. Dean mumbled out his protests, trying to turn on the small, uncomfortable cot. Then the pounding started to get louder, making it impossible for him to sleep.

He sat up, then almost ran to the door, shouting. "Don't you dare... don't you break this too, Sam!" Scrubbing his face, he started to unlock the door, cursing under his breath about vampires who thought he could replace everything they broke.

As soon as the door opened, Sam grabbed Dean, eyes wide with his panic and shock, relief that he was alright, all mixing together as he stepped forward, continuing into the room, unable to stop his forward momentum and not caring as his eyes drank in the sight of Dean unharmed. He backed him into the room until Dean’s calves hit the cot, and the two of them went over, Sam landing on top of him as he clung to him. Gazing down at Dean, Sam swallowed hard, "You're - you're okay."

"What the... way too early," he grumbled, sure that not more than a couple of hours had passed since he put his head down. Eyes closed tightly against the daylight that threatened to wake him completely, he added. "We're not having sex now. Contrary to popular belief, Dean Winchester does need rest. Sometimes," a smile pulled at his lips. 

Sam's worried features slowly pulled into a frown, "What? I - you... I couldn't _feel_ you, I thought..." he shook his head, jaw clenched as he pulled away and stood to his feet, "doesn't matter what I thought. Why couldn't I feel you? What did you do?" accusation crept into his tone.

"Shshsh, too early." He rolled on his stomach on the cold floor and cracked one eye open. "Don't know what you're talking about. Felt you just fine. Could use a diet, Sasquatch." 

 

Sam frowned harder, "I... that's not what I meant. You know what I mean... I can usually check on you without being here, but there was nothing...like you were..." he looked away, grit his teeth before looking back, "Diet?" he huffed, "didn't realize blood was fattening."

Dean couldn't help the laugh that escaped him at Sam's vanity. Then the rest of what he said sort of sank in. "You have a tracking device on me? That has got to be illegal." Giving up, he opened both eyes. "Safe room. It's hex-bagged and warded, apparently not against vampires. Keeps the demons and the ghosts out, and makes me hard to find." He yawned. "You didn't bring coffee, did you?"

Sam quirked a brow, "Sure, Dean. I went to the all night vampire Starbucks and got _you_ coffee," he huffed and shook his head, "I know where there is a still warm dead deer though if you'd like that..." this time it was Sam's turn to grin.

Groaning, Dean shot him a dirty look. "No thanks, I'm on that diet you should be on. Are you always this noisy in the mornings?"

 

Sam stepped away, starting to look around the room at the items. Slowly he nodded. "No reason to be quiet at my house. No one ever sleeps," he glanced at Dean, "That's only an annoying _human_ trait."

"Okay, new rule... never, ever visit me before ten." Dean's eyes followed Sam around the room. "I'm not a morning person." He yawned again, rolling onto the cot and throwing one arm over his eyes. "Can I go back to sleep now?"

Sam glanced at him, nodding. "I'll just entertain myself while you're asleep." he grinned slightly, before looking away again.

"Mmmkay," he mumbled.

It was then that Sam saw them, the chains. The ones like at the facility and Sam's eyes widened, his breath caught in his throat as he took a step back, eyes glued to the chains. "Decide you needed those to get rid of me?" he asked, his voice raw. Sam tore his gaze away from the chains and looked at Dean, accusation and hurt clear on his face.

"Now what? Dammit," opening his eyes, he saw Sam wasn't kidding. Looking beyond him, he saw the chains hanging, and sat up, swinging his legs over the side of the cot. "I didn't get those. They've been here... forever, with the other weapons and things." He patted the cot, "c'mere."

Sam looked back at the chains, before he slowly took a step toward Dean as he thought about what he said. He hadn't gotten them. They'd been there, Dean hadn't done it thinking of him. Maybe it didn't mean anythng... But, Sam had never seen, never heard of chains that could hold a vampire until the facility.

 

Sam stiffly sat down on the cot, his gaze continuing to go back to the chains as he sat there, back rigid, posture stiff, jaw clenched.

Dean put an arm behind Sam. _And now, I'm a vampire psychiatrist._ Luckily, he didn't make the crack. He would have, if he hadn’t known where Sam had been and the meaning those chains had to him. "When and if I ever want to get rid of you, I'll tell you to your face. Should know that. I'm one of the 'good guys'... it's really the only thing I have." He held him closer, ignoring the stiffness. 

 

Sam didn't reply, didn't respond other than to jerk slightly at the feel of Dean's arm. It wasn't Dean, it was him, it was the memory. Body stiff and tense, his gaze continued to be drawn back to those chains over and over as he sat there.

"My dad and Bobby built this place. I haven't gone through half the stuff in here. I wasn't allowed to before... and there are things that are dangerous," he shrugged. "I noticed the chains last night, recognized them I mean. I can send them to Bobby, if you want them out of here." He would have offered to bury them, but as a hunter, he knew you never gave up any weapons.

Sam slowly tore his gaze away from the chains, looking back at Dean, golden hazel eyes searched his face before Sam licked his lips. "I - I don't know... do you need, I mean, could you, would it...." he sighed and looked back toward them.

 

Sam shook his head, "You don't know what it was like, they kept me chained all the time. They'd put me up on this table, chain me to it, " he bit his lip, his eyes still on the chains, face turned away from Dean, "I couldn't move, couldn't escape." He licked his lips and frowned . "They had a scalpel, made from the same stuff, and that's what they used to cut me." He nodded as though agreeing with the memory he was seeing, "they took pieces of organs, shoving parts out of the way, and then they would haphazardly sew me up. I was too weak to fight much, kept me drained, I..." he turned his head and looked at Dean, "No matter how loud I yelled, " he swallowed, " or screamed in pain," his shook his head, "I felt it all, everything, and they didn't care." He tore his gaze from Dean's as he blew out a breath, blinking away the memory and pulled to his feet, cleared his throat.

 

Sam squeezed his eyes closed, pinching the bridge of his nose with thumb and forefinger, then let his hand drop as he opened his eyes. "Um, I'll let you sleep, I was just.... worried." he frowned looking around the room. "After the door is repaired, I don't want you coming down here where I can't feel you. You should stay upstairs." he gave a curt nod as if that decision had been made and settled then.

For once, Dean didn't bristle at being told what to do or how it was gonna be. Instead he got up, following Sam and just pulling him into a hug. "I know what you said about being touched, just pretend I'm Alice with ... you know, but with less curves." Vampires weren't only ones who got to make decisions for others. He held Sam tight, but carefully, like he was china and could break. "It's over. That place. I know you'll never forget it, but you gotta... you can't let it rule you." He cleared his throat. "I think we're at the part I'd normally kiss you better," he whispered over Sam's ear, pulling back to see his eyes weren't dangerously dark.

Sam tensed as Dean pulled him into a hug, he wasn't sure what to do, or if he _should_ do anything. He didn't want a repeat of earlier and he had planned on staying until it was time for school, to watch over Dean and so he knew where he was, that he was alright since he couldn't feel him.

 

He huffed softly when Dean told him to pretend he was Alice. There was a huge difference between him and Alice, for one, the biggest one, he didn't want to possess Alice. He held perfectly still, trying to not let his mind wander into areas that were dangerous, holding his breath so he didn't breathe in Dean's scent. Slowly he raised his arms, placing his hands lightly on Dean's back, not enough to actually hug him, but so that he would know that the thought was there.

 

When Dean pulled back, Sam's eyes had for once not gone all dark and dangerous on him, maybe it was the fact that memories too cruel and too fresh had just been in his mind, or maybe he was actually getting better at this resistance thing. Yeah, probably the memories. "I...I don't think I'm going to go vampy," Sam shook his head, "not right now."

"That a 'yes'?" Before Sam could change his mind, Dean leaned in and kissed a path up his throat, highly aware that Sam had gone stiffer than a board all of a sudden. Lingering over Sam's pulse and drawing in his scent, he moved up to slant his mouth over the vampire's. His kiss drew absolutely no reaction, not the sort he was used to anyway. Instead of leaning into him, Sam was angling away, his mouth soft and pliant, but not kissing him back.

Breaking the kiss, Dean gave a wry grin. "People are gonna start saying I'm losing my touch. That, or I'm gonna get a complex." Moment over, he turned and picked up his pillow and blankets, letting out a heated breath. Maybe Sam hadn't been affected but he sure as hell had. Just thinking about the stairs...

Sam's eyes slowly opened, looking at Dean. He might not be happy about the way Sam had been, but Sam was thrilled that he had remained in control of his hungers. Golden hazel eyes watched Dean as he grabbed his pillow and blanket. A small smile tugged at the corner of Sam's mouth as he tilted his head to the side, "You might not be happy about that, but personally, I'm thrilled that right now, I'm not wanting to lunge across the room and tackle you to the floor." he gave a nod, smiling wider, "Maybe it's gonna be a good day."

"Nothing wrong with a good tackling." Winking, Dean pushed past him, no longer sleepy and therefore no longer as mellow, so sugar coating was out. He stopped near the stairs and looked at Sam. "Guess I'll see you later."

Sam turned and started to follow after Dean only to stop and frown at Dean's words. "Oh," he wanted him to leave? "Uh, yeah, I guess so. I..." Sam looked back over his shoulder into the room then back at Dean. He nodded, jaw clenched, "Yeah, see ya later." Sam agreed as he stepped past Dean and disappeared out of the house faster than human eyes could track him.

 

* * *

 

Sam and Alice sat in the grass in front of Dean's house waiting for him to return from wherever it was he had gone off to. He hadn't been at school that day and as much as Sam had argued with his siblings that he should go find him, they had all asked him if he could still feel Dean. He'd been able to and knew he was alright, but it hadn't changed the fact that he still didn't know where he was, and that was bugging the hell out of him.

 

Rosalie thought Dean was just pouting over what had happened between him and Sam and was acting like an infant.

 

Emmett told him maybe Dean fell asleep again seeing as he didn't sleep a lot the night before, that humans were prone to that kind of thing.

 

Jasper had told him to stop worrying.

 

And Alice had been the best voice of reason of all, she had told him that he needed to just wait, as long as Dean was safe, all Sam could do was wait, give Dean some breathing room, after all he'd had a lot dumped on him in one night. It hadn't been the advice he liked, but it was the one that had made the most sense and he had to agree with her logic.

 

After school however, once they had arrived home, Sam hadn't been able to wait any longer and had headed to Dean's only to have Alice say she was going to walk with him. Sam's mood swings were changing. They were getting more drastic, and although it meant that when he was in a good mood he was nearly his old self, it also meant that his bad ones were worse than ever.

 

They sat in the grass, plucking long strands from the yard, playfully tossing them at one another as they talked.

"I just remembered when you first joined us, you kept trying to keep pet deer," she laughed at the idea. "Some things haven't changed." Seeing he was about to argue, she raised a slender hand. "I don't mean he's food, but he fancy's himself a 'hunter.' You couldn't meet someone who, you know, didn't make it his life's work to try to get rid of things like us? Always the more difficult path," her lips quirked. But interesting, definitely more interesting.

Sam frowned shrugging slightly, "Nothing in my life has ever been easy, why should _this_ be any different?" he licked his lips, the corner of his mouth quirking upward slightly, "He says he's made an exception for me." Sam glanced behind them at the new door to Dean's house, before looking back at his sister and tossing another blade of grass into her hair with a smirk, "He even got a new door so he could stay out of that room I told you about." he shrugged, "At least that's the reason I'm telling myself."

"He's not the only one who’s made an exceptions." The Cullens didn't ordinarily mix with humans either.

Sam nodded as he looked at the ground, but didn't say anything, the smile falling from his lips. He sighed before looking back over at her, "I should go find him. See why he wasn't at school, it's getting late." He was doing it again, and he knew it, but he couldn't help that fact that Dean's absence was bothering him, even after they had all told him to leave it alone, to give Dean some space.

She put her hand over his. "What do you think he'll say if you do that?" 

Sam sighed, looking miserable. "He'll tell me that it's none of my damn business and that I need to find a new hobby." He nodded, looking away with a shrug as he wrapped his arms around a bent knee. "Doesn't mean he doesn't need me sometimes, though."

"They're not like us," she reminded him. "We find a mate and then know everything there is to know about each other, be with them. Humans like their secrets, their..." her brow wrinkled, "privacy." Thinking about it a little longer, she knew the Cullens were different even among their own kind. Most vampires bonded with one mate but not with a group... not with a 'family.' 

 

Sam listened, frowning thoughtfully as he nodded. The corner of his mouth quirked up as he looked at her, "Privacy... yeah, he was sure freaking out about my talking to you all on the phone last night," he huffed, "You'd have thought I asked you all over to demonstrate."

"I don't think Jasper could take it, between your hormones and his," she laughed. "Or me. Thanks to you we're in the bedroom ALL the time." She looked down and cut another long blade, using it to tickle Sam's neck from a distance. "You let him touch you. Progress."

Sam gave a half snicker and shook his head, "Yeah, sorry about that..." he frowned, "I think so," he smiled wider at her, squirming away, as he chuckled, from the tickling piece of grass, head tilted toward her to protect his neck.

 

Laughter dying away completely, Sam froze and looked toward the road, "It's him, he's coming home," he told her softly, hearing the Impala's engine off in the distance.

Dean pulled into the drive, mouth flattening at the sight of guests 'frolicking' on his uncut lawn. His music blasted out the window, until he rolled it up and shut off the car. Once he was out, he threw both of them a baleful look. "Since when did it start raining vampires?" Shaking his head, he walked to the trunk and got a bag out then headed toward them. "Something I can do for you?" Like shove a stake up your asses. He was good... he didn't say it out loud.

"You sound ... exasperated," Alice said.

"No really?" He looked over at the tall brunet. "Well Sasquatch? What's this about?"

Sam frowned, pulling to his feet, "Don't talk to her like that. You can talk to me anyway you want, but not her." He glanced at Alice before looking back at Dean, "And I was just wondering why you weren't at school."

"Talk like what?" Dean dropped the bag and crossed his arms. They were on his lawn, goddamit, trying to tell him how to behave?

 

Sam narrowed his eyes, "You had a tone."

"Anything else you want to critique? My clothes, oh... maybe my new door, hmm? My tone," he muttered under his breath as he rolled his eyes.

Alice sat up. "Sam was worried about you."

Looking between the pair, Dean focused on Sam. "Why?"

Sam's eyes met Dean's, "Why do you think? I always worry about you."

"Well don't," he scrubbed his face. "I told you I'm not a kid anymore."

"Compared to Sam, you will always be," she said, looking between the two men who looked about the same age. 

"Yeah well, he's ancient." How ancient, Dean suddenly found himself wondering as he looked speculatively at the vampire. One moment he acted like a child having a tantrum, and the next he had the weight of decades or centuries behind him. He really was confusing. 

She could see Dean getting impatient and slowly got up. "Are you staying?" she asked her brother, her lips curving. "You might have better luck with conversation in the early morning."

Dean frowned. "What does she mean?"

Sam quirked a brow and shook his head, glancing at his sister and giving her a half smile at the shared knowledge that Dean was easier when he was half asleep. "Nothing. It's... nothing." Sam sighed as he eyed Dean, though he talked to his sister, "Yeah, I'll be home in a little bit, I want to find out what he was doing all day." He tilted his head, "Actually, make that, I'll be home late, " he looked over at her, "It IS Dean we're talking about."

"Try not to come back horny," she whispered so low Dean couldn't hear. "For Jasper's sake." Tossing him a last smile, she looked at Dean and disappeared into the street.

Shaking his head, Dean picked his bag up and headed to the door, knowing full well Sam would either follow or go straight to his room using the window for a short cut. Just for a moment, the thought of padlocking the window teased his mind. Just to see what Sam would do. Then again, he didn't want another broken window.

Sam followed Dean, walking in the door behind him, "So? Are you going to tell me, or am I going to have to guess? Remember, I have time on my side." The corner of his lips quirked upward teasingly.

"Not my keeper, Sam." He gave him a pointed look once they were inside. He'd gotten rid of the furniture and cleaned up as best he could. Climbing the stairs to his room, he smiled to himself. "Why don't we get a blow by blow of _your_ interesting day, instead."

Sam frowned, "I didn't _have_ an interesting day. Now, _why_ weren't you in school?"

"Oh, let's see... maybe I didn't get any sleep last night. Maybe I had to put a new door in, yeah that could be it. I'll catch up on all the class notes _dad_ , satisfied?" Once inside his room, he tossed the bag down. 

"Where were you after that?" Sam asked him, frowning before going on, "My day... I was here, had a shower, which didn't go so well, I hunted, fed, came back to find you when you went missing, got ready for school, _went_ , worried and talked about you all day with my family, and now here I am. Your turn."

"What difference does it... you talked about me, what about me?" He looked up at Sam. "Stop talking about me to them, Jeez. Never mind, I don't want to know what you said about me." Yeah, whatever it would probably piss him off or embarrass the hell out of him.

Sam frowned at him and shrugged, "Oh stop, it wasn't sex stuff... this time. I was telling them that I was worried about you and they were giving me advice." He sighed and crossed his arms over his chest, "And?"

He was fricken relentless. "And... and I went for a massage, got my nails done, and a facial. What do you think I did? I'm a hunter, I did hunting things." His gaze slid to his books. "And then I'm gonna do student things, take a shower, brush my teeth, go to bed and maybe have a nice dream. Anything else you _need_ to know?" 

Sam slowly uncrossed his arms from his chest, "I see, we'll I'm glad you didn't get the facial, cause if you had, they missed." The corner of his mouth quirked then fell as his eyes narrowed slightly, "What kind of hunting things?"

Dean ran a hand over his jaw. "If I'd wanted a wife I'd have gotten one." He remembered his parents giving each other a run down of their day, it made him smile at the fleeting memory. "Just research and shit. Now cut it out with the interrogation." Walking to the window, he looked out. It was drizzling. Again. 

"Sam? Where are you from?" He looked over his shoulder at the vampire. It was his turn to ask the questions.

Sam frowned, "We moved here from Alaska."

Leaning against the window frame, knowing he was standing in 'Sam's place' and slightly amused by the fact, he clarified. "Uh uh, I mean you. Where are you from, originally."

Sam shook his head, "Doesn't matter. That person doesn't exist anymore." he turned and ran a hand through his hair, "but my baby sister is buried just outside Chicago." he turned back around to face Dean, quirking a brow, "Why?" That was as close to telling Dean where he was from as he was going to get. He had made sure his sister was buried in the yard along with his mother and father. He wasn't sure that the graves were marked anymore or if the house was even still standing, but that was where they were.

Dean gave a casual shrug. "You know everything about me. What ... what's your real name?" He crossed his legs at the ankles. "It can't be Cullen."

Sam narrowed his eyes, "I told you, _he_ doesn't exist anymore. I'm Sam Cullen. Samuel," he shrugged, "actually."

"What were you, some sort of serial killer or something that you have to bury your past? Seriously, I wanna know." Giving him an encouraging smile, Dean put his hands down on the window frame and leaned back slightly. 

Sam frowned, eyes pinning Dean's, unsure why the sudden interest in his past, "My _sister's_ name was Abigail Dorton."

"Abi," Dean nodded, realizing the girl was very important to Sam, had to be since he only talked about her when asked about the past. "She look like you?"

Sam smiled softly and shook his head, "Naw," his head hung, "she was pretty." he looked up at him then, giving a shrug, "long dark hair, hazel eyes, dimples. Big smile. Always following me around."

"Sounds exactly like you, except with the long hair. Bet she asked a lot of questions too." Bet unlike himself, Sam enjoyed getting followed everywhere. " _When_ are you from?"

Sam smiled, nodding, "More than I could ever answer. More than I wanted to answer." He thought about the day she had found him drinking blood from a rabbit in the woods. Frowning he shook off the memory and looked at Dean, lips pressed together. "What, now you want to know how old I am? You writing a book? Afraid I'm trying to rob the cradle?" he huffed, shook his head, "Everyone is robbing the cradle for me. 1920, I was born in May of 1920. Abby-girl was born six years later."

"No, now I wanna know whose cradle you're planning to rob."

Sam quirked a brow, gave him a pointed look, "Whose did you think?"

"Oh, I don't know. I hear Jens has a thing for you." Seeing the blank look, he elaborated. "Jennifer, from physics? Busty blonde, you know the one. It's not that big a class."

Sam frowned and quirked a brow, "Yeah and some girl with dark hair wanted to do nasty things with me when I went to Gink's the first time too." He shook his head, "People should be more careful about _what_ they invite into their beds."

"Don't knock it till you've tried it." He licked his lips. "Did you say ‘no’ because you were afraid you'd take her blood? Or wasn't she hot enough for you?"

Sam quirked a brow, "Are we really having this conversation?" He sighed and shook his head, "I told her ‘no’ for a lot of reasons." He started to pace, "I'm a vampire and more than likely she would have been a midnight snack," he glanced up, "After all, I wouldn't have had feelings for her, so it makes fighting it kinda dumb."

 

"Plus the fact that we just don't drink from humans, which is point number two, so why put yourself in that position?" he quirked a brow, "Then there's the fact that I'm not like that. Vampires don't just... well, _I_ don't just..." he shrugged, "After all, I am a virgin. Which brings us to the fact that no, I wasn't attracted in the first place. Jens stands no chance in hell, because I have someone else I'm attracted to and the barely clad bimbo, well, she reminded me of a streetwalker." He shook his head and made a face.

"Right there... if you keep up with that attitude, you're never getting laid," Dean said pointing at him. "Nothing wrong with being easy, and I bet she'd have been a good time, but yeah, if you think you'd have hurt her," he cocked his head and gave a one shouldered shrug, "makes sense not to have taken her up." He shifted, "what about other vamps, if you're afraid to try with humans? I mean Alice and Emmett, they found vamps." Why he suddenly had a burning desire to get Sam laid, even if the thought made him feel just a little tense, he had no idea.

Sam sighed, "Why are you so interested in my having sex with someone?" He frowned and stopped pacing. "Yeah, Alice found Jasper in the woods. Kinda like the way she found me. Sorry, but there hasn't been an overly high explosion of vampires wandering around the woods lately. And Emmett," he shrugged, "Rosalie was for Edward actually, but she ended up with Emmett."

"You're telling me in a hundred years you never ran into any other vampires? That's impossible." He frowned. "A little honesty here, please?"

Sam narrowed his eyes, "I _am_ being honest! And for your information, when I was young we didn't go around screwing every girl we saw. It's not in my morals to be a manwhore. And secondly, for forty years soon after I was turned I was being held prisoner, okay? Fucking wasn't really high on my list of priorities right then!" he grit his teeth, "besides, vampires don't _do_ that."

"Forty..." Dean's breath left him. He'd known it was the second time Sam had been captured but... well five years was bad enough, but a lifetime? An entire lifetime for a hunter who might not live to his fifties? He wanted to ask how he'd gotten away, what had happened, what they'd done to him back then, but he could see he was getting riled. Some memories were better left undredged, though Dean had his own ideas about finding these... these animals who'd treated Sam like that. He'd turned up a little information during the day, and now he had a different angle to work on. "Sorry."

 

Sam let out a slow breath, relaxing a little now that Dean seemed to be dropping the subject.

Pushing off from the window, Dean slowed walked past and went to sit on the bed. "I'd... ah, like to apologize for the human race. What they did to you isn't human at all." He was pretty sure the people that ran the new facility were human. Not a hundred percent but his gut told him they were.

Sam gave a nod, jaw still clenched slightly as he quickly walked over to 'his spot' by the window and looked out. "I know it isn't all humans. I don't even blame them really. If they had asked me. Had done something so I didn't feel..." he sighed, placing his forehead against the cool glass of the window. "It doesn't matter. And the first time," he nodded, "They got what they deserved." He gave a one shouldered slight shrug, "At least that's what my family tells me. Unless they're just trying to make me feel better about what I did."

"Sam Cullen justice. Seen it, like it," he answered. Not for the first time, he thought about taking Sam on more hunts. He'd only been slightly irritating, and a lot of help. Hell, if he was honest, he'd liked having a partner. He just wasn't sure... not yet. Sam was too volatile, and he treated him like a kid. That could lead to trouble. So Dean kept his mouth shut and his ideas to himself.

Sam huffed. "You went to the bar?" he shook his head, "There's no way you saw it that night. You were drugged." He turned around and leaned back, half sitting on the window sill, "And even if you went to the bar, there's no way you _saw_ ," he shrugged a shoulder, "maybe what was left. The blood. But, not _what_ I did. If you'd have seen that you might not be sitting there talking to me now. Remember, these weren't vampire's. Just like at the bar, these were humans. But, I didn't care. I did it anyway. I knew they had killed my family to get to me, and they’d held me for years," he shook his head, "I didn’t care that they begged me not to do it. I did it anyway." He pulled up from the window sill and turned back around, looking out once more, "And I'll do it again to the people from the facility if I ever find them."

Sam crossed his arms over his chest as he stood there, jaw clenched and looking over his shoulder, "So see, I know what you mean about not being who you used to be.” There had been a time when he wouldn’t have hurt a fly. "Luckily I had the Cullens. Especially Alice," the corner of his lips turned up, "she lead them to me, and when... well... she was the one who helped me through what happened. She was the one who lead them to me after you helped me at the facility, too."

 

His lips tugged upward more as he thought about Alice, "She reminds me of her, you know?" he turned around, "Alice. She reminds me of my Abby-girl." His lips curved up on one side, making a lop-sided half smile before he licked his lips, "Just something about her. It was I thought I was seeing when Alice walked up to me in the forest the first time I ever met her. I thought she was Abby, come back... somehow." he frowned slightly, sadly and hung his head for a moment before turning back to look outside.

"So you like her like a sister," Dean snorted, trying to lighten the mood. Really, what could he say to make Sam feel better? He couldn't get him the lost years back. He couldn't save his sister. And he had no qualms about what Sam had done to his captors... if and when he got his hands on his modern day captors, he hoped they'd do something to make him shoot them instead of turn them over to the cops. "Boy, gotta tell ya, I thought _girlfriend_ when I first saw you guys. You don't touch very... brother/sister like."

Sam turned around and quirked a brow, "Really? How are a brother and sister supposed to touch? I don't have sex with her, so I don't see how I do anything that could be misconstrued as 'boyfriend/girlfriend'. I thought it was obvious she was with Jasper."

"So, I take it that if you did have a girlfriend... or a boyfriend... you'd have sex with that person." Dean's gaze pierced right through Sam.

Sam looked slightly confused, "Well, yeah, vampires find a mate and that’s it."

"Just one... like first one, that's it?" Dean looked at him in disbelief. "Well that sucks. How would you compare?"

"Yes, just one." Sam frowned, "Compare what?" he shook his head, "Emmett has Rosalie, Alice, Jasper and Edward has Bella," he shrugged a shoulder, "they haven't had sex yet. She's human." He gave Dean a pointed look, "lunch."

"How would you know whether the one you settle for is as good as it gets? I mean if you have sex with three girls, then you have something to compare with... to know who you have chemistry with." He raised his hand to stop Sam. "What if you just settled for something and there's something better for you out there?"

 

Sam huffed, "We know." he smirked slightly, as he thought of something else, "We, Emmett, Jasper and I, we used to tease Edward about Bella. Jasper made a menu once and hung it on the refrigerator. It said, 'Monday-blood, Tuesday-blood, Wednesday-blood, Thursday-blood, Friday-Bella.' " Sam chuckled and shook his head, "Edward was NOT happy."

"Vampire humor, ha ha." He pulled his legs onto the bed and frowned. "So... because she's human, they're never gonna have sex. That's totally screwed up. I could never do that."

 

Sam looked at Dean, a sad light entering his eyes before he shrugged, "Unless he turns her. Otherwise, in the heat of the moment, her scent, her blood," he shook his head, eyes closing for a brief moment. willing back the pain of Dean's words, before they opened again, "He could and likely would hurt her."

The thought of turning a human made Dean uncomfortable. Sure, he got that the Cullens were different, but he'd lived with too many years of believing all vampires or vampirism was wrong, or even just the knowledge of their daily battle not to feed on humans, that made him think it was a bad idea. "Rock and a hard place, then." He reached for the remote and flipped the t.v. on.

Sam nodded, "You could say that." he shrugged, "But at least I don't have to worry about hearing _them_ mixed in with Emmett and Ros, Jasper and Alice at night." Hhe rolled his eyes and shook his head, "Who needs porn?"

"Me. That's the good thing about motels," he gave a wise nod. "Porn channel." He flipped through a couple more, yawning. "At least it's not your parents, that would be just... gross."

Sam shrugged, "It's no different. I hear them too. Stuff pillows in my ears trying to block them all out." Headed for the stairs, "You need to study before you fall asleep," he called over his shoulder as he descended the stairs. "I'll grab your books."

Dean made a face and muttered about Sam acting like his parents. Yeah well, what else was new, he really was acting that way, when he wasn't acting like a hot virgin about to rape him. When the vampire returned, Dean sighed in defeat but muted the t.v. and scooted over in the bed to let Sam sit next to him. He could tell Sam was about to protest, but knowing people, he pointed out that he 'used to' have a table and chairs, but not anymore. He only smirked slightly when he got his way.

He was good, real good. For a couple of hours, he studied, and let Sam teach him the stuff that had been plaguing him because he'd missed so much class before. Then he started to get bored. As Sam lectured on, he studied his profile. His strong jaw, sloped nose... those changeable eyes that could get Dean all twisted up on the inside. And that mouth. He loved when Sam smiled and showed his teeth. Licking his lips, he blew into Sam's ear.

 

Sam's words faltered at the feel of warm breath on his ear, his head slowly turning to look at Dean as he quirked a brow, and cleared his throat, "That's not studying."

"Sure it is. I'm studying you." Dean was only _slightly_ miffed when Sam steadfastly went back to lecturing. This time, Dean put a pencil in his mouth, and leaning in, used it to tickle shell of Sam’s ear.

Sam pulled his head back slightly out of reach of Dean's pencil as he tried to continue the lecture, which Dean was making rather difficult, he'd already said the same sentence three times and was readjusting his hands on the book as if the thing was going to suddenly fly away at any moment.

Watching as Sam uncharacteristically stumbled over words, Dean knew he wasn't unaffected. Reaching out, he tangled his fingers into the soft hair at the base of Sam's head, sometimes letting his fingers slide against the back of Sam's neck, slightly cupping it. "Uh huh... interesting. Keep going."

Sam sighed, narrowed his eyes on the book as he tried to focus before he gave up. "Have you ever been to the zoo? Watched the panthers or lions eat? How even when it's brought to them, placed before them they seem to play with it, let it sit and entertain them almost before they pounce?" slightly darkened golden hazel eyes slid to Dean, "Panther. I pounce."

Dean didn't take his hand away as they locked gazes. "I bet when you go to the zoo, you call ahead and have them put away the animals," he grinned slightly. "Now what was it you were saying? Unless you're done? Cause if you are done, want to show you something." His gaze dropped to the sexy column of Sam's throat.

Sam's brow furrowed, before he glanced back at the book, "You need to study more, but you aren't letting me focus." He slowly closed the book. "What did you want to show me?"

"Vampires aren't the only ones who mark," Dean said, pulling him close at the same time he leaned in and brushed his mouth along the side of Sam's soft throat, drawing in his incredible scent, then opening his mouth and pinching his flesh slightly, before sucking on it hard, and rhythmically. Damn... he tasted so good, literally. 

Sam frowned in confusion before gasping softly, tensing as Dean's mouth made contact with his neck. The book dropped from numb fingers onto the floor before Sam turned slightly more to face Dean, his hands raised, curled into fists and lowered back to the bed. His eyes closed as a soft moan escaped slightly parted lips. His teeth were starting to ache, blood pounding in his temples, but he tried to hold still, tried to just not move, just _feel_ , to enjoy the feeling of Dean's lips, his mouth against his throat. Until the sensations got to be too much and Dean's scent was too strong, engulfing him, the sound of his blood rushing through his veins, the beat of his heart.

 

Sam raised his hands, placing them on Dean's shoulders as he shoved him away gently, "Enough!" he shook his head, inky black eyes intent on green, "I don't want to hurt you."

Dean's breaths were coming out shallow, and his heart beat faster than normal. He shook his head, "No. You kissed me on the stairs. I want that." His gaze dropped to the red mark that was quickly disappearing from Sam's skin. He swooped forward, nipped the exact same spot, feeling a sense of satisfaction on seeing his teeth marks, before slanting his mouth over Sam's and pushing him back against the pillows behind their back. 

 

Sam frowned his eyes following Dean's movements. The feel of Dean's teeth on his neck had Sam's cock twitching, his body responding. Inky black eyes widened a second before Dean's mouth covered his and he clamped his lips shut, body tense, even as Dean pushed him back against the pillows. _He doesn't know what he's doing. Have to protect him from this, from himself. Oh God, give me the strength to do it._

They were chest to chest and mouth to mouth. When Sam resisted, Dean lifted his head. "Open for me. Twist your tongue around mine, just like your family said." Expecting him to agree, he brought his mouth back down, this time more aggressively pushing his tongue inside. Danger. Fear. Trepidation. Hell, they just got Dean more worked up than he cared to admit as he did his best to get Sam to engage.

Sam's jet eyes stared up at Dean, full of fear, fear at what he wanted to do, push Dean back, do everything he was wanting and take his blood, drink until the fire inside him died. And then, he was kissing him again, swallowing up his protests, his reason. Hands gripped the bed linens in tight fists as his blood pounded in his temples, his teeth aching so good, his body wanting this so badly he didn't even realize he was straining upward toward Dean. His mind screaming at him to stop this madness before it went too far, before he did the unthinkable.

 

Finally, somehow, he got the strength to tear his lip away from Dean's, his breaths panting out he looked up at him, "I can't do this. I can't, you don't know what I need." he shook his head, "you don't wanna know."

Groaning, Dean wiped his mouth with his thumb and pulled away, sheer frustration showing in his expression. He'd wanted what Sam gave him before, but ever since that one time... he just lay there. He let out a hissed breath. "I know what I need," he mumbled in response. 

Sam shook his head sadly, "I can't... I have to protect you. I have to stay in control." He slowly sat up and licked his lips, "Doesn't mean I don't want..." he sighed, looked away, "but I can't."

Giving a curt nod, Dean pulled a book onto his lap. Maybe it would cover up his erection... what a damn waste. God damned waste. He stole a glance at Sam, then just closed his eyes, trying to get a hold of the feeling raging inside. If he were alone, he'd be taking care of himself just about now.

Sam sighed and pulled to his feet walking to the window. "I should go." he muttered softly, opening the window. "I'll see you tomorrow." he told him softly, glancing over his shoulder before slipping out.


	8. Chapter 8

Alice was walking down the school corridor when she caught sight of a couple kissing against the lockers. The guy was pressing his body into the brunette's, twisting her hair into his fist, and holding her hip. She could hear their hearts and breaths, even the slight sounds they made. It might be erotic... if Dean Winchester weren't the one doing the kissing.

She knew... felt her brother walking toward them, and went to intercept. Pasting a smile on her face, and thankful that unlike Edward, Sam could not read her mind, she linked her arm in his and started pulling him out of the building. "I need something from the car... and company."

Sam quirked a brow at his sister, "From the car?" he smirked slightly, "Since when do _you_ need company?" he asked as he walked easily with her, his free hand on hers that was link through his arm.

"I can always use your company. I'm glad you're feeling better," she said. Jasper had felt   
Sam’s despondence, anger and frustration, though she didn't know what had taken place. The one thing she did know was that all roads lead to one Dean Winchester when it came to her brother. She'd tried so often to see their future, but come up with nothing so far.

Sam sighed, frowning slightly, "It's just so hard, Alice. I want..." he looked into her eyes and blushed before looking away, "but we can't. I might hurt him, and for that," he shook his head, "I'd never forgive myself. Dean just doesn't --" Sam's words trailed off as he looked back the way they had come, Dean's feelings crashing over him as he focused on him. 

The feel of soft curves pressed against him, a tongue in his mouth, Dean's rising lust. Sam squeezed his eyes closed, a look of pain crossing his features. Opening his eyes, full of hurt and confusion, he spoke,"He's doing it again! He knows how I feel and he doesn't give a damn!" 

Suddenly every locker, one by one in a row, opened, then slammed closed again only to open and repeat the process, over and over again. Each slam was harder than before until metal pieces, screws and bolts started to fall from the lockers, the hinges coming undone as Sam glared, eyes inky black.

Alice's eyes widened. She put her hand on Sam's arm. "Stop... stop Sam, you have to stop."

Screams and shouts were filling the hallway. Dean just barely put his arm out to stop a locker door from slamming into his kissing partner. Pulling her away to safety, his eyes narrowed. Ghost? Poltergeist? Could be anything. He needed his EMF device. Telling her it would be all right and to go inside the class, Dean started for the exit.

That's when he saw them. Alice and Sam, and he just knew. "Is this you? Is it Sam?" He demanded, frustrated when Alice left Sam and blocked his way. He should be able to shove the tiny little thing away, but she was as immovable as Sam, dammit. 

"Sam... God damnit." His eyes turned hostile as he realized that all those failed dates, the crap that happened at the movies, and every other time he had a girl in his arms... it was Sam, Sam interfering.

Sam turned his head, eyes narrowed and angry, "What's the matter, Dean? Spoil your fun?" his lips curved upward, but it wasn't friendly. In the blink of an eye, Sam had Dean by his shirt slamming him against the wall, face inches from Dean's, "I told you before. _Mine_ , dammit! But you don't listen!"

The breath was knocked out of Dean, but he pushed back. "And I told you 'no' Goddamit, you're the one who's not listening. “No”, you got that? Not yours, not by a longshot. Now get your fucking hands off and stop interfering with my life. You have no right Sam, none." He shoved again.

Alice just looked at the other students who were passing by, and tried to discourage the gawkers.  
Sam leaned in, his mouth near Dean's ear, "That's not what you were saying last night." he told him softly, before he released him with a shove, stepping back next to his sister. 

Sam took Alice's hand, "Come on, Alice," he told her, though he glared at Dean, before turning and walking away with her.

"And what was your answer, last night, Goddamnit?!" he stared at their backs. "Kissing a person doesn't mean anything," he muttered low enough that only the vamps could hear. Why the hell didn't Sam get that? He'd explained it, told him over and over. If he kept this up, he was gonna have to tell him to keep out of his life. Again.

Taking a couple of heavy breaths, he headed to class, dreading physics where he'd see him again.

* 

Sam didn't speak to Dean the rest of the day, he made it a point to ignore him in physics class, he wasn't even sure if Dean was doing the same or not, refusing to look over, to focus on Dean or his feelings. Sam withdrew into his own world, did his class work and remained quiet. 

Lunch was no different, having switched sides of the table with Emmett so he didn't have to look at Dean in the cafeteria, and he didn't go up for food that he wouldn't eat either, only remained at the table silently. 

After school, Sam was the first Cullen in their car, backing out of the lot, tires squealing and taking off at breakneck speed, not wanting to chance running into Dean in the parking lot. 

His brothers and sisters huddled around Emmett's jeep, watching Sam go, looks of concern, pity and sadness for him on their faces, until one Dean Winchester walked out of the building, then four sets of supernaturally bright eyes all focused on him. 

As Dean walked past, his second senses had him looking back. Yup, it was like they were all concentrating on him. Lengthening his strides, he tried to get the hell away from them.

He'd reached his car and was almost inside when he was practically surrounded by Cullens. All but one. His mouth tightened as he looked from one, to another, to the next. "I hope you've all had dinner." Yeah, he couldn't help feeling a bit like dessert on a plate.

Alice spoke first, "Dean," 

Emmett cut her off, eyes narrowed on Dean, "You know, Sam was right, you're not like Bella, Bella never treated Edward like shit." 

Alice shot her brother a dirty look and sighed before trying again, "Dean," 

Jasper spoke up, "You hurt him." he told Dean. 

Alice laced her fingers with Jaspers as she held his hand, "Dean, this is hard for Sam, harder than it is for you. You might not understand that, but it is." 

Rosalie remained silently glaring at Dean. If looks could kill, Dean would have dropped to the ground.

Dean crossed his arms. "I don't treat him like anything. I don't go trashing his shit. I don't interrupt his dates. I don't try to fucking running his life, telling him where he can go and what he can do. That's what he's doing... trying to do to me. But that's alright with you guys, right? You think I should sit there and just take it." His chin cut upwards.

Emmett glared, "He wouldn't have trashed your sorry junk if you wouldn't have hurt him. You're lucky it wasn't _you_ he trashed." 

Alice sighed, "Dean, he isn't trying to ruin your life, he told you how he feels." 

Jasper tilted his head, "If you don't want him, why tease him?" 

Rosaile's lips curved up into a cruel smirk as she stepped forward, "Oh, I dunno," she purred, golden eyes ranking over Dean, "It was kinda nice having Sam come home all hot and bothered. I took care of things for him." 

Alice, Emmett and Jasper all looked at her like she'd lost her mind.

So he'd gotten Sam warmed up, not that he could even tell last night, and she'd finished him off. Just what he wanted to hear. He stiffened slightly. "Glad to do a girl a favor," he popped off, eyes hostile. 

He turned to Jasper. "I don't tease him. A kiss doesn't mean you own a guy, I've told him that. I was straight with him. I don't even know what he really wants from... with me?"

"I think you did more than kiss him. I mean, you did press your cock against his leg." Alice muttered. 

Emmett huffed and Jasper looked at the ground. 

Rosalie, tilted her head, "No, Dean's right. He did nothing wrong. And how long have we been trying to get Sam to join the fold? I mean, it _is_ what we Cullen's do after all. Fuck each other." she tilted her head the other way, golden eyed intent on green, "Right, Dean?" she smiled coldly.

"So I've heard," he gave a one-shouldered shrug, sure he hated her as much as she hated him. "That's why you gotta understand that I'm not like your fuckin' Bella, virgin forever. I like sex, I need it. I think this conversation, as exciting as it's been, is at an end." He quirked his brows, ready for them to leave.

Emmett glared at him and nodded, "You're right about that. You're nothing like Bella. She's family, we'd give our lives for her. We wouldn't walk across the street for your sorry ass." With that he turned to leave, "You comin', Ros?" 

Rosalie, glanced at Emmett, before she leaned in, her mouth near Dean's ear, "More cookies for me." she whispered, before drawing back and turning, linking her arm with Emmett's and walking away. 

Alice looked over at Jasper and nodded to him. With a final sad look at Dean, he walked away, leaving Alice there with Dean alone. 

She looked up at Dean and sighed, "Sam has never felt this way about anyone. Ever. You might give him a break. If you feel nothing for him, stop kissing him, stop touching him and let him get over you. Don't be like that to him, Dean. He's never done anything but protect you. Ever."

He locked gazes with her. "Love and sex are two different things. I don't do love, and he doesn't do sex. You got any other brilliant suggestions?"

"He doesn't want to hurt you, is that so wrong?" she sighed, "You can't tell me that there is nothing more to you than sex. People, humans, don't work that way. Even those who think they do."

"That's right, there's nothing more. Live fast, die young. I don't know about _humans_ , but it's my way, a hunter's way." He thought about his parents, they were in love, at least from the snatches he could remember. But how bitter had his father turned after his mother had died? It had crippled a part of John Winchester, and that was so not Dean. He pressed his lips together for a moment. "You have sex with Jasper. Regularly, right?" Oh God, he was acting like them now... falling into their 'sex by committee' way of thinking. "What if I told you to stop it? Huh? Love Sam enough to stop banging Jas? Do you?"

Alice stared at him a long while, her lips pressed together in a thin line. "I do love Sam enough. Do you?" she raised a perfect brow and shook her head, "I don't think you do. I don't think you know _how_ to love anyone... other than maybe yourself. Which is sad, because my brother would have been great for you." She tilted her head, "And unlike my brothers and sister, I would have welcomed you as my brother."

"I like him. Sometimes I hate him," he cocked his head to the side. "But liking someone, even loving them... that doesn't mean you should give up your life." He rubbed his neck. "I'm not cut out for being with one person. And hell, I can't even _'be'_ with him." He thought about last night. How he'd kissed Sam and, yeah... he’d gotten nothing back, and that hadn't worked for him. "Sometimes just holding hands... that's not enough for a guy."

Alice narrowed her eyes at him. She had tried to be reasonable, had tried to get him to see that Sam was doing what he was for Dean's own good. But, he wasn't listening, or else he really didn't give a shit about her brother and that just made her even angrier. Sam was too sweet, too kind to be treated like this, he'd gone through too much to have his heart ripped out by some manwhore human. 

She pressed her lips together and sighed, "You're right, it doesn't mean you have to give up your life. Loyalty isn't giving up your life, Dean. Feelings, love, that makes you loyal and you obviously have none of that for my brother. Don't worry, I'll tell him. I'll tell him to go back to watching you from afar. He doesn't have to get close. You won't even know he's there." She started to turn and stopped, glancing back at her sister, who was laughing with Emmett as she sat on his jeep hood. 

She quirked a brow a Dean, "You see my sister there? Beautiful, isn't she? Flawless. Perfect hair, skin, teeth, body," she nodded, as she looked Dean up and down, "Sam's much better the hell away from you." with that she walked away.

Dean's dark gaze followed hers to Rosalie. For a second he flashed on how she might have 'helped' Sam last night. Alright, he wasn't gonna fall into this... their crazy way of thinking. Sam really should find himself a 'nice' vampire girl or guy, he'd told him as much, hadn't he? Putting his hand behind him, he opened the door, still staring, before getting in. 

He sat for a long time in the car. He knew in his gut that Sam wouldn't stay away. He might for a while but something would flush him out. And just being out of the way didn't prevent him from interfering. After seeing how Sam had made his furniture fly around the room, and now seeing the lockers, he knew who had fucked up his dates. Would he stop that now? 

As he pulled out of the lot, he refused to think about how Sam had saved him. Again. Goddamnit, that didn't mean he owed him everything, did it? He saved people all the time, he didn't ask them to...

"I knew you were trouble. I knew you were gonna complicate my life, Sam Cullen," he muttered, turning his music up so loud he could no longer think.'

* * *  
During the next couple of weeks, Dean kept busy trying to follow up on his research about Sam. They didn’t talk directly, not once, but he did catch Sam following him, or felt his presence now and again. That didn’t bother him so much as another date that was ruined when vegetables ‘escaped’ from closed crates and pelted him and his date. His phone call to Sam went unanswered.

* * *  
[Two Weeks Later  
Portland, Oregon -11pm ]

Sam parked his car across the street of the club Dean had walked into. It was a seedy area of town, the club was downstairs under what appeared to be some sort of tattoo and piercing parlor. Sam sighed as he sat back in the driver seat watching the door. 

He hadn't planned on following, he was going to just go home, if Dean needed him, he would know. But then he'd seen Dean come out of his house, dressed in a business suit, complete with a tie. Sam had never seen him looking like that before and it got him wondering what the hell Dean was up to. 

He'd followed the Impala at a distance the entire way, getting more and more confused with each mile that passed. 

They weren't even in Washington anymore. What the hell was he doing and why _here_ of all places? Golden hazel eyes scanned the area for signs of trouble but people were scarce. Only a few wandered near the entrance to the club. A big burly guy, who made his brother look skinny and tiny, who was dressed in leather pants and a vest with a stupid looking hat and one other man with him, looking nearly the same way seemed to be standing guard at the door. 

Sam tore his gaze away from them, frowning as he tried to concentrate on Dean, see what in the world he was up to here in this dump of a club. He caught bits and pieces of conversation, but Sam's attention was pulled away again as he watched two men walk toward the club, one with walking with his head bowed, the other walking in front of him. They were both dressed scantily, in what looked like leather, maybe latex. He frowned as he watched them walk to the door where others were now walking in as well. Males and females, dressed the same way, in barely-there clothes, all leather or latex. There were chains and handcuffs hanging off their clothes, off their bodies, some being lead by leashes. 

What the...? Sam frowned, reaching for his door handle, his whole reason for being there, watching over Dean, seeming to slip from his mind as his gaze remained glued to the door of the club, to those who were now mingling just outside. It was as if Sam was mesmerized by what he saw, the way they looked, the way they were dressed, were acting as one man pressed his lady friend against the wall circling the doorway and started to kiss her, his hands fondling her body as he used the chains attached to her wrists to hold her still, Sam couldn't look away. 

Pulling from the car, he jogged across the street, his steps slowing as he got closer, his eyes on the couple out front as he watched them silently from the shadows. Frowning, Sam thought about Dean again and tried to concentrate, but only caught parts and pieces of what was going on, his main focus, was right before him, as the sound of chains hitting the concrete drew his attention back. 

Jaw set, Sam stepped forward, stepping carefully around the couple, he entered the dimly lit club. His breath catching in his throat, eyes widening slightly at what he was presented with. Everyone inside seemed to be dressed the same way as the few he had seen. There were chains hanging from the ceiling with cuffs on them in various places throughout the smoke filled room. Music, dark and sultry filled the air, as bodies gyrated against one another, some in corners doing worse than the couple outside, others using the chains hanging from the ceiling. 

There was a rack on one wall and an old stockade. Some of them had masks on, completely hiding their faces, while others had so little on that they might as well have been naked. His gaze swept the room in search of Dean, before they fell on the empty mattress in another corner of the room. There were cuffs at each corner of the low bed frame. Sam stared, his imagination running away with him, eyes darkening as he was pulled into a daydream....

*

[daydream]

He was standing across the room, in the shadows next to the mattress, his back against the wall, when his eyes locked with Dean's. Sam didn't move from his spot as he watched him, his gaze traveling over Dean's form, taking in the way the sport coat showed off his broad shoulders, the white dress shirt, crisp and tight fitting over muscular chest, his view hampered only by that damn red and blue stripped tie hanging in the way. Golden hazel eyes roamed lower over Dean's flat stomach, lean hips, the way the fabric clung to him in all the right places, accentuating areas that nearly had Sam covering him up from others’ view. Slowly his eyes moved back up to lock again with Dean's green gaze as Sam licked his lips, sucking his bottom lip into his mouth as he watched him move.

Frowning, Dean whispered something to the person he'd been interviewing, and got up, straightening his tie and putting his palm over it as he headed toward Sam with purposeful strides. He wove between the club patrons, jaw tightening when he felt a hand on his ass... a masculine hand. A 'back off' look seemed to work, and he was back to making a bee line for Sam. 

The tall vampire was in black jeans and a tight black tee shirt, wearing a bemused smile. He looked like a child among these sharks and lowlifes, and was as out of place as Dean himself, in his suit. Only Dean knew what he was getting into and Sam... Sam had no clue. He'd bet half the people at the club were ready to do Sam, and the other half would want him as their slaves, or whatever the hell it is they liked to do.

Coming to a stand in front of him, he poked Sam in the chest. Hard. "What part of back off don't you get? What the hell are you doing here, Sam?" He looked around and back. "Go on, get the fuck out. I'm serious."

Sam looked at Dean, coal black eyes intent on green before he tore his gaze away and glanced down at the mattress. "So am I." Sam reached out then, gripping Dean by the front of his jacket, pulling him up close. "Mine."

"I don't think so," Dean looked at Sam's hand, then back at his face, about three seconds from shoving him back. "You don't even know what to do with me. Ginks is more your style, now beat it, and let go."

Turning slightly, Sam threw Dean down on the mattress, then lowered himself over him, as he dipped his head and crushed his lips to Dean's, tongue darting into Dean's mouth, his tongue tangling with Dean's. The cuffs movedon their own as Sam focused on them and grabbed Dean's arms, hands sliding upward to his forearms, to move Dean's wrists where he wanted them.

Dean struggled, but only slightly. Once Sam's tongue was in his mouth, he was too startled to think. This is what he'd wanted, for so long. Every time he tried to goad Sam into action, he'd gotten nothing. And now... now he was kissing the hell out of him. He tried to put his arm around Sam and found his wrists pinned above his head. A sound of protest broke from him as he pulled again, wanting to fucking touch Sam.

The cuffs slipped slowly under Dean's wrists, as if they were alive, then curled around and buckled into place, only then, did Sam break the kiss, pulling his head back slightly as he nipped at Dean's bottom lip. Sam shook his head, "I tried to warn you, tried to be careful with you, but you don't listen. Now you'll see what it is that _I_ need." 

Sam's hands slid slowly down Dean's chest as he pulled back, straddling Dean's hips as he sat up and gripped each side of Dean's shirt. Black eyes flicked to green, "Don't bitch about it, I'll buy you a new one," he told him before ripping the shirt open, tiny buttons scattering about the room.

Dean's head spun. Was this possible? "Sonova..." he wanted to curse Sam. To rail at him. To push him off, but dammit, his wrists were secured too tightly. He tugged on the cuffs and saw something in Sam's eyes... excitement. As Sam sat on him, Dean arched up, biting his lip at the blinding heat that went through him. He shouldn't like this. He _didn't_ like this. "You had your fun, now get off," he growled, swallowing as large hands moved over his now bare chest, leaving trails of heat in their wake.

Sam's eyes devoured the flesh his hands slowly ran over before he glanced up and shook his head. "Just getting started." 

Leaning forward, Sam slid his legs out straight so that he lay on top of Dean, thrusting his groin against Dean's as he held himself up with his hands. One hard thrust and Sam's lips curved into a wicked grin, before he lowered himself down onto Dean, his hands going to the tie at Dean's neck as his lips brushed against his jaw, his neck, digits working to loosen the tie. 

His teeth ached so badly, the blood pounding in his temples, but Dean had to push, had to make him feel like he wasn't good enough... He ignored his body's warnings, instead continuing on, taking what he wanted. It was time Dean learned what it was Sam had been protecting him from. That _he_ was the real danger. Sam's dark eyes met Dean's just as he got the tie loosened enough to slip over his head. "If you keep running your mouth, I could just gag you with this." he smiled wickedly, tilting his head to the side.

Taking a labored breath, Dean met Sam's gaze. Holy fucking hell, he'd seen heat in them before but this was... up close and personal. His heart was ramming against his chest, and there was no hiding his body's reaction. Hell, he was pushing up against Sam's erection even as he demanded Sam get off him. 

"I know what comes next Sam. You fucking tease me, and then you run out of ideas and stop... right?" He lifted his hips again, making sure to grind against Sam. "You like that? Then you fucking run away. Now get these off me," he tugged his hands. "I want someone with follow through."

Yeah, he saw the danger in Sam's eyes, but he'd been cheated out of this so many times, he'd had it. And maybe the danger added to the excitement. Maybe he liked to see how far he could push Sam.

Sam stopped, laying perfectly still for a moment as he glared down at Dean. "I warned you. Never say that I didn't try to protect you, that I didn't try to tell you. You got that?" 

He pulled the tie up, stopping at Dean's mouth and tightening the tie once again. "When you feel like yelling at me, bite on that instead." 

Pulling back, Sam sat up once more, straddling Dean's hips, as his hands went to the fastenings of his dress pants, quickly unfastening them. Slipping back a bit more, Sam yanked at the material, gripping the waistband of Dean's boxers as well, revealing Dean completely to his gaze. Sam looked up at Dean as his hands went to his own pants and began working at the button and zipper of his jeans. "Still think I'm stopping? Sure you still want this?" Sam pulled his jeans and boxers down to his thighs before laying back down over Dean and thrusting against him, skin to skin.

Anger at being gagged flared in Dean's eyes, but the rest of him burned for more. He made a muffled sound the instant Sam's cock slid over him like a branding rod, hot and hard. But they'd been here before, and Sam had always stopped... and that's where this was heading. He tugged on the goddamned cuffs again, his gaze sliding to the couple next to them who where going at it hard and heavy. That would never be him and Sam, not ever. 

As Sam thrust against Dean, he bit his lip at the feel of Dean's body, his naked flesh under him, his skin against his in ways he'd never thought possible. Oh God, it felt so good. His cock was so hard and heavy he throbbed, his teeth ached so badly he was clenching his jaw, the pounding blood in his temples blended with the sound of Dean's blood rushing through his veins. _Holy hell..._

Sam pulled back, sitting on him, before sliding back, spreading Dean's legs with his own, his body between Dean's legs as he looked up at him, tilting his head, "Still think I'm leaving?" he asked him before dipping his head and running his tongue up the length of Dean's shaft. He repeated the movement again, glancing up at Dean as his tongue reached the tip, before he slowly pulled his tongue back. "I'd try more, but I doubt you'd want me to get carried away down here." The corner of his lips quirked upward, before he dipped his head again as he took Dean in his hand and slowly started to pump him, his tongue circling the tip.

When Sam lifted off him, Dean was ready to cry. _Not again... please don't stop, not this time._ He took a deep breath, resolving himself to disappointment, and then Sam was playing with his cock. He'd never done that before. Never offered to touch him. A gurgling sound came from his mouth, as he cursed the damned gag. _More_ , he wanted to shout, his head rolling back and hips lifting as wet heat encircled his tip. Good, so good. Where had Sam learned that? His fingers closed around the chains linked to the cuffs, his knuckles turning white as he strained against them.

Sam continued to pump Dean's cock as he moved his mouth to kiss and nip at the skin at the juncture of Dean's thigh, slowly working his way upward. Sam nipped, kissed and licked the tender flesh of Dean's stomach, moving up to his chest, when he had to finally release his hold on Dean's cock. His tongue ran over Dean's nipples, nipped at them before moving to his neck and repeating the process, sucking in a breath between his teeth as he thrust his hips, grinding himself against him, trying to get the friction they both needed. "You have no idea how hard this is." Sam groaned, "How much I want to take from you. How much I want to taste you right no," he told Dean's softly as he worked at removing the tie. 

As soon as Sam pulled the tie from Dean's mouth, he pulled his lips from Dean's neck, slanting them over Dean's lips instead.

"Sam!" The instant the brunette's mouth was over his, Dean forgot to yell at him about the damned gag, instead meeting his tongue outside both their mouths and making Sam chase his, groaning they slid together and battled. He was on fucking fire, and Sam's admission... the fact that he was on the edge of his control, it just made this hotter. 

"Untie me... let me show you," he demanded, wanting to hold onto Sam, wanting to make sure Sam never pulled away. "Harder... oh yeah..." then he had Sam's tongue in his mouth and was writhing under him with increasing desperation. "Need you... please Sam... need you," he said thickly, between kisses.

Dean's words had Sam groaning into their kiss, eyes squeezed tightly closed as he fought not to take, not to sink his fangs into that tender flesh at Dean's neck, where he knew, if he looked he'd be able to see his pulse, if he licked it, could feel the blood beneath his tongue. "Oh God..." he thrust harder, sliding his hand, his arms up under Dean's shoulders, holding onto him, pulling him back as he pushed against him. 

The mattress started to slid across the floor with the force of Sam's thrusts against him, but he couldn't stop, didn't _want_ to stop. "Wanted to do this for so long..." Sam moaned, as he lifted his head, bit his lip.

"Yes... God yes." If he hadn't been in good physical shape, Dean would be shouting just about now. But instead, he found himself enjoying the pleasure pain, the knowledge of the toll it was taking on Sam to keep in control... that one second could mean the difference between the payoff he'd been waiting for, and death. 

Dean lifted his legs, wrapping them around Sam's waist, and locking his ankles over his ass. With each drag of his legs, he brought Sam closer. God he was pulsing and aching so bad. "Want to be inside you," he admitted, shocked by his own words and pretty damned sure if they ever fucked, it would be the other way around. "Want to be so deep, even _you_ will feel me for day. Harder... need to come," he gave a strangled plea, feeling every muscle in his body start to tense.

Sam lowered his head, licking across Dean's lips, before slanting his mouth over Dean's and kissing him for all he was worth, moving hard and fast on him. So hard, the mattress had slid all the way to the wall and was now making muffled banging noises as they moved. 

He probably should have asked if he was hurting Dean, probably should be more gentle, humans broke so fucking easily, but after everything, after all the things Dean had said, had done, he couldn't bring himself to care, wanted to show him that he could finish this, that he wanted to finish this... even if it killed him, because at this point, Sam wasn't so sure he wasn't going to die from being over-stimulated. That pain in his teeth, the pounding in his temples, the sound of Dean's blood, the feel of Dean's body against him, were going to either push him over the edge, or he would somehow combust from the heat in his veins. 

Tearing his lips from Dean's, Sam lowered his head, face pressed against his neck, "Dean, God..." his words were muffled as his lips pressed against his pulse point. Sam squeezed his eyes closed, breath leaving him in a rush. Licking his lips, Sam opened his mouth, slowly scraping is teeth across Dean's skin, drawing a small amount of blood. Sam inhaled deeply, groaning. "Dean... I can't help it... I want to taste... so bad... I can't..." he moaned, pulling his head back, neck arched back, eyes closed a look of pain on his face.

Gritting his teeth, Dean didn't make a sound as Sam broke his skin. That wild look in those dark eyes, the need... he could almost feel Sam's struggle like it was his own. He was so afraid Sam would walk away... more afraid than that Sam wouldn't stop at that small cut. "No... kiss me then. I'll keep you busy, just don't stop Sam, not this time. Don't you fucking quit on me, not now," he half demanded and half begged, tightening his legs around Sam and pulling his knees in. 

Sam lowered his head, crushing his lips to Dean's as he continued to move against him, seeking the release they both desired. But, he'd had a taste, just the barest taste on the tip of his tongue and it had been so sweet, so good, like absynth, like ambrosia. Sam moaned into the kiss, his finger tips digging into Dean's shoulders as he strained against him.   
It was too much, too many feelings, too much for him to handle at once, to be expected to fight against the hunger, the desire to possess Dean. He had to have him, had to. Sam tore his lips from Dean's, his dark gaze intent on Dean. "I can't help myself anymore. I _need_ to. I tried to warn you, Dean. I tried to protect you." 

His head lowered, tongue running over the scratches there, a groan sounding low, deep in Sam's throat, "Want to taste you as you come, Dean. Want to drink your blood as you come apart under me."

"No. Just fuck me," Dean moved his head from side to side, Sam's name suddenly ripping from his throat as he lifted his hips.

*

"Was it good for you?" Dean asked in an even voice, having walked over to where Sam sat with his eyes glazed over, staring at some of the bondage equipment. He would have thought the sight of chains and ropes and leather ties would scare the hell out of him after his imprisonment, and from the way he'd reacted to the chains in the safe room... but no, this vampire had layers on top of layers to him. 

Sam blinked, one hand darting out to grab Dean's jacket and yank him forward with all his strength, not being gentle or careful at all. He slowly turned his head, his gaze meeting Dean's "Let's find out." Sam stood with, pulling Dean against him in one fluid movement and crushed his lips to Dean's.

This was _not_ very FBI agent-like, Goddamnit. If there was a way to mess something up, Sam would find it. Dean wanted to pull away, would have too, but Sam's scent tantalized him. He'd missed it, missed him. And now their mouths were practically welded together, and he just wanted to... he fucking wanted to thrust his tongue in Sam's mouth. Only, for once in his life, he was scared. He couldn't take it if Sam refused to respond, if he stood there like cardboard. He just couldn't. So he let Sam move his mouth over his and leaned in, knowing the Sam would blow cold any moment now and it would be over.

Sam wrapped his arms around Dean, fingertips digging into Dean's back as he thrust his tongue into Dean's mouth and started backing him toward the door. He moved one hand up Dean's back to thread his fingers through short silky hair, as he cradled the back of Dean's head. Simultaneously, Sam's other hand slid downward to grip Dean's ass, pull him up against him, a low groan sounding deep in this throat.

Just like that, Dean forgot about his investigation. All he knew was that he'd wanted... needed this, what had been denied to him so often. Was he dreaming? No, he could feel every plane of Sam's hard body pressing into him, forcing him to back up, whether he wanted to or not. "Unh..." the air left him when Sam grabbed his ass and brought him up hard against him. He closed his own arms around Sam, half cursing the fact that Sam was in control, and half loving it. Just when had getting manhandled like this become hot?

They were half way to the door, lips still pressed together, tongues still tangled, when Sam directed them toward a wall near the door, slamming Dean back against it and thrusting his hips, grinding himself against Dean as he pulled his hand from Dean's ass, ran it up Dean's chest under his suit jacket to his shoulder, trying to push the coat from his shoulders as Sam moaned softly. The hand on the back of Dean's head moved to press against Dean's lower back, pulling him up hard against him.

He didn't know what had come over Sam... didn't care. It felt good to have him groping, touching him like he owned... That thought gave Dean pause, but only for a moment. The large hands roving over his body was making his blood thicken and boil. He felt Sam's erection against his hip, and it was as if they were back on those stairs. So close, so fucking close they'd been. "Fuck... Sam," he shoved his hand under Sam's tee shirt, running one hand up and down his back, his fingers digging into him whenever he pulled him closer. The ache between his legs was building. This wasn't gonna be enough soon... nowhere near enough.

His teeth were aching and the blood was pounding in his temples almost as bad as he'd imagined in his daydream, but Sam tried to ignore it, not wanting to stop, not wanting to have to pull away again. "Want you... outside... we need to get outside...." Sam told him between kisses as he nipped at Dean's lips, ran the tip of his tongue along them, scraped his teeth against Dean's jaw bone, before raining kisses back toward his neck. Sam groaned as he neared his pulse point, "Oh God..." 

He pulled his head back, looking at Dean with coal black eyes as he pulled them from the wall and walked them toward the door. Sam found Dean's lips again, his tongue pushing past his lips into his mouth to tangle with Dean's, tease and pull Dean's tongue into his mouth, sucking hard.

Good, so good. Sam was kissing him the way he only ever did in Dean's dreams or when Dean concentrated on imagining just that. He wasn't ashamed of jerking off to those images, not anymore... not since they'd kissed for real. He was pulling at Sam as surely as Sam was tugging him. They staggered, almost fell as they climbed the stairs, slamming each other into the wall to steal a heated kiss. By the time they were on the street, and Sam had him pressed up against the Impala, somehow Dean's crisp white shirt had lost every button and was hanging open, giving Sam free access.

His mouth burned and already felt swollen. So good, Dean couldn't believe how good it was... he should believe it, he'd thought about it so fucking often. God he needed this, he really need it, and he had to make sure Sam didn't pull away. Pushing his hand between their bodies, he cupped him over his jeans, swallowing his groan. Sam was already rock hard... he couldn't possibly want this to stop, not this time.

Sam moaned low, thrusting his trapped arousal into Dean's hand, before reaching between them and grabbing Dean's wrist. Pulling on Dean's other arm, breaking his hold, he grabbed that wrist as well, then pinned both against the car as he thrust his hips against Dean. He ground their cocks together through their clothes as they stood with Dean trapped against the Impala, Sam’s mouth devouring Dean's. 

Pulling his head back, Sam nipped at Dean's bottom lip, dipped his head and kissed his neck, sucking the skin into his mouth as he groaned, feeling the blood rushing just under the surface. Sam slammed his hips harder against Dean's a low growl sounding deep in his throat. "Tried to save you from this," Sam panted out the words, as he forced himself to lift his head away from Dean's neck, from the blood that called to him. His teeth ached to badly, he was dizzy with sensations, the pounding in his temples nearly maddening. Sam shook his head, "But, you don't listen."

"Sam?" Dean ignored the pain of his body colliding against steel. "I don't listen... I don't want this to end." He leaned forward, cursing when Sam's hand flat on his chest kept him from reaching the heat of Sam's lips. Making a frustrated sound, he started to struggle. No, he wasn't gonna let Sam off the hook, not this time. "Give me your mouth. Give it to me, Sam. I want it," he growled, eyes focusing on Sam's lips.

Sam leaned in with a low growl, crushing his lips to Dean's plunging his tongue into Dean's mouth. Searching, mapping every area he could reach, twisting his tongue with Dean's, savoring the kiss, even as he knew he needed to pull back so Dean could breathe, Sam started to nip at Dean's lip, only to have a fang catch. The sweet, rich taste of Dean's blood touched Sam's tongue in an instant. 

Sam pulled back quickly, letting go of Dean completely and taking a stagger-step back, eyes wide. His hand went to his mouth, a single digit wiped at the blood he could taste on his lip, Dean's blood. Sam tore his gaze from Dean's to look down at his finger as though hoping against hope that it wasn't really there, but his fingertip was red with blood. 

Slowly Sam started to back away, shaking his head, "I - I'm sorry. I didn't mean..." he licked his lips, the taste of Dean's blood on his tongue, "This is why, Dean. This is why I don't touch you. To protect you from the real danger."

Even as he almost slid to the ground when Sam abruptly let go of him, Dean wiped the corner of his mouth. It was only a small cut and there was barely any blood, but even with his senses dulled by lust, he knew right now, this second, the cloak of danger surrounding Sam was for real. The darkness in his eyes, the severity of his expression, the way he was mesmerized by the single scarlet drop on his finger... it set off alarms inside Dean.

Moving carefully, slowly, he took a step toward Sam, then wrapping his fingers around Sam's index finger, used his thumb to smudge off the blood and take temptation away. He locked gazes with Sam, still breathing hard. "I'm alright. So are you." He pressed his lips together for a second, then said what they both knew. "We're gonna have to stop, right?" He couldn't very well force Sam to kiss him again when he knew the taste of blood would still be on his lips. But that didn't make it any less frustrating.

Sam slowly tore his gaze from his finger, from Dean's fingers wrapped around his own, and looked up into Dean's face. This was so unfair, he'd never, in all these years, fallen for anyone, felt for anyone the way he had Dean and yet, he couldn't be with him, not in the way Dean wanted, needed him to be. He felt like crying, like hitting something, like running until he outran the pain of knowing that tonight had indeed changed their relationship, it had proven that he couldn't be with Dean. Not now, not ever. Pain showed in his dark eyes, before he tugged his hand away and shook his head. 

Head hanging he licked his lips, "I -I should go." slowly he raised his head, "I'm sorry. I tried." With that Sam turned and hurried back across the street to his car. He was inside and gunning the engine seconds later, tires squealing, Sam took off like a bat out of hell, running from his demons.

Putting both arms on the Impala's roof, Dean leaned his head down, taking a couple of deep breaths. It wasn't Goddamned fair. Not fair at all, for Sam to be able to affect him like this. For this... for the most intense kisses he'd ever experienced... to be able to go _nowhere_. It wasn't fair that everytime they started something, it ended like this. It wasn't Goddamned fair that Sam was going home to blondie and would get off with her, when he... He banged the roof with his fist, and got inside the car. 

Why couldn't he kick it? This growing need for someone who was just plain wrong for him? They were opposites in every way. Hunter/vampire. Slut/virgin. Addicted to sex/happy to hold hands. Someone up there, or down in hell knowing his luck, was having a laugh over this. He fucking knew they were.  
* * *

It was late by the time he got into bed, but he wasn't sleepy. Almost against his will, his mind kept playing the events of the evening over and over. He'd been afraid Sam had heard his questions about the mysterious metal and would hit the wall, and then he'd seen the state Sam was in. Hell, he'd been joking with the 'was it good for you,' and then ended up on the other side of a blazing kiss. The kiss they'd shared on the stairs, the one that had left such an impression on him paled in comparison. Just when he'd started to think he'd imagined the electric heat that could be between them, Sam's responses... tonight happened. Maybe it just made things that much the harder, he didn't know. But he wasn't sorry, not at all. And if Sam hadn't accidentally cut him, he knew he would have begged, forced or said anything that it would take to get the vampire into the backseat of his car. So much for that now.

Arranging the pillows behind his back, he started to get ready to watch t.v.

*

 

Sam had gone straight to his room when he got home, not even answering Alice as she called to him, only closing his door. They didn't bother with locks, it wasn't like they couldn't just break in if they wanted to anyway, a closed door, meant that you wanted to be alone, and that was respected. 

Sam flopped down on his settee, flinging an arm over his eyes. He'd fed once he was closer to home, but during the entire drive, everything from tonight kept playing over and over in his mind. Sam huffed as he laid there thinking the daydream had sure gone a hell of a lot better. Pulling his arm away from his face, Sam's eyes went to his phone. 

Should he call? He wanted to talk to Dean, to check on him. He could feel his frustration, but he wanted to know what Dean was thinking and he wasn't his brother. He couldn't read minds like Edward. Might make things easier if he could. 

With a sigh, Sam sat up and reached for his phone. He wished that he could go see Dean, but he didn't think that after earlier, after everything... yeah, it wasn't a good idea. Not now, not for a while. Sam dialed the number and waited as the phone rang. His lips curved up into a small sad smile when Dean answered the phone, "Wanted to make sure you were alright."

Dean's heart leapt to his throat at the sound of Sam's voice... dammit. Trying to cover the slight silence, he glanced at the clock. "What? Blondie's done banging you already?" Yeah, he was a little bitter.

Sam frowned in confusion into the phone as he mouthed the word, 'Blondie'. "What's that suppose to mean?"

"You know what I mean." Rubbing his eyes, Dean made a face. 

Sam sighed, "No, I really haven't got the slightest clue what you're talking about, but apparently you are alright, so..." he sighed, not really wanting to hang up, but also not wanting to argue about something Dean was obviously having some kind of hallucinations about. "So, um, is your lip alright?"

"My lip..." his tongue automatically went to the cut. He couldn't even feel it anymore. "You didn't hurt me." There was a silence. They hadn't talked, really talked in a long time and it made it a bit awkward. "Next time you talk to your posse, make sure they know you're the one who broke the restraining order. I don't want them on my ass, again." 

Sam frowned, running a hand through his hair, "My posse? Lemme guess, apparently they would have something to do with this Blondie?" Sam huffed, "Are you sure I didn't slam you against the car too hard? The only person I know of that said anything to you was Alice."

"Yeah well, you're wrong." He licked his lips. "Last time we had a talk, you and I were gonna steer clear of each other. What... what does tonight mean?" he asked, feeling a bit lost. 

Sam sighed, "I hoped for more than what happened... I had this daydream about you when I was sitting there..." he shook his head and laid back on his settee, arm tucked behind his head. "I tried not to..." he stopped, licked his lips, "And I did steer clear of you, until you left in a suit. Never seen you dressed like that before. I was curious. Or haven't you noticed that I haven't been by?" 

"Yeah... noticed. That and how you like to tear my stuff apart," he glanced down at his wrecked shirt. "Dark suit usually means I'm playing FBI. Nothing that exciting, unless I'm getting grilled about my age," he rolled his eyes. "What about... I meant what happens after tonight." He'd think on Sam's daydream later, he'd know it had been a helluva daydream, but hadn't realized he'd been featured in it. Sam hadn't said, but it made sense.

"Dean...." he sighed and mumbled, "God, why does this have to be so damn hard?" making his voice louder for Dean to hear, he went on, "I don't know. I don't want to hurt you and I did. It might have been small this time, but what about next time? What if I can't control myself as well next time? What if...?" he sighed, shaking his head. "I'm scared for you, Dean. You want me to just say that I'll do this and you have no idea how hard I have to fight. How much it... it hurts." he squeezed his eyes closed, "I just don't know."

All the _wrong_ words, even if they were right in the grand scheme of things. Sam was right, it did hurt. It shouldn't, but it hurt like hell when Sam disappeared from his life. And it hurt like hell when he was in it too, when all they could do was play junior high school kissing games, or when Sam shut his feelings down. 

"I see. So we’re back to ignoring each other. Got it," he nodded. There was a cold silence between them for a few seconds. "I'm not sorry it happened." Shutting the phone, he dropped it on his nightstand, a heavy feeling blossoming in his belly like he'd lost someone. Again.

*

An hour passed, and Dean was still edgy. He should be able to fall asleep, or to concentrate on the television. No, instead he kept thinking of Sam's scent, or how he'd gone all sexy and pushy, of how he'd ground against him and kissed him with such passion. It was like Sam had been on fire, so different than when he'd gone all 'cardboard' on him before. This was the Sam he dreamed of. The one who wanted him so bad, it hurt. The one who made Dean burn so hot, he stopped caring that he was in the arms of a guy and in public.

The more he thought on it, the harder he got, his skin turning so damned sensitive that even the sheets were almost painful as they rubbed his body. Letting out a soft breath, Dean planted his fee flat on the bed, knees pointing to the ceiling, eyes focusing on the window as he shoved his hand down into his shorts. His cock was aching so bad, he almost groaned as his fingers wrapped around it, squeezing and giving some relief.

* 

Sam had hung up the phone feeling worse than before he had called. Throwing his arm back over his eyes, he tried to think of something, anything else but the feel of Dean's body pressed against his, the taste of his lips, the warmth of his mouth, the taste of his blood. With a groan, Sam rolled onto his side, eyes squeezed closed. _Make it go away, just make the desire to possess what he couldn't have go away, please._

The more Sam tried to _not_ think about it, about Dean, about how much he’d had wanted to keep going, had wanted to shove him into his car and take, wanted to touch, to feel everything, everywhere. Had wanted to drink... some part of Sam had almost had him ready to believe he could take a taste, a sip, without destroying Dean. He'd been so ready to do it, to try when his teeth had snagged Dean's lip and he had tasted his blood. In that moment, Sam knew beyond a shadow of a doubt, he wouldn't stop, would never stop until he drained Dean's sweet, rich, delicious blood. The more he thought of that, the more his body ached for it. Oh God, Dean tasted better than he smelled, better than Sam had ever imagined. With a low moan he rolled back onto his back, eyes opening to stare at the ceiling, his cock rock hard, aching, his body needing. 

That was when he felt it, felt Dean. The hand on his cock, pumping, the lust raging through his body. Sam stiffened, only to groan, head rolling. It wasn't a small feminine hand this time. Oh God... it was Dean's own hand. He could feel the difference, the calluses that marked his hands, the rougher skin, the larger size. "Dean... fuck..." Sam groaned at the ache between his legs.

As Dean squeezed and pumped his aching erection, he imagined Sam's hard body pressing into him, pushing him back... forcing him up against the wall, against the Impala. The knowledge that Sam liked... wanted to be gentle, but couldn't... that he was swept by some dark need to possess him, to fuck him when he knew he couldn't... to know he could bring Sam to the very edge, it had him groaning Sam's name out loud. 

"Take it," Dean growled into the empty room, wanting Sam to fight... fight for this, to take the pain because the pleasure was worth it. "More," he writhed and licked his lips, unconsciously spreading his knees further apart.

Sam's hands gripped the sides of the settee, his knuckles turning whiter than normal, grit his teeth, his head rolling against the pillowed back of the settee. "Dean..." he groaned the name, his breaths coming faster, the aching need in his body intensifying, his lust growing. He felt feverish, his cock so damn hard and heavy in his jeans. 

He tore his hand away from the side of the cushion he was gripping, his hand going to the crotch of his jeans, squeezing himself, his eyes closing slowly, rolling up in his head as he arched his neck. "Please..." Sam head rolled as he sucked in a ragged breath, "Can't..." he moaned low and long, the sound filling the silence of his room, "Dean..." he was begging, pleading, into an empty damn room.

"Don't stop, Sammy." Dean begged his phantom lover for more, just as he did when he was there for real. But this would be different. He was in control. He imagined Sam's eyes going darker than midnight. Imagined him pinning his wrists. Imagined him tearing his shirt off, then his pants and touching him. Sweet mother... what he wouldn't do to feel Sam's hand on him... right there, closing around him, pumping him even as he threatened to do more than Dean bargained for. Sam had no idea... no idea how far Dean would go. 

"More... more Sam." Dean bit his lip, reopening the wound Sam had left. "Like that Sam? Can't have it... fuck me instead. Fuck me," the words were torn out of him as he imagined Sam freeing himself and turning him around, slamming his face into the wall. He didn't care... he just needed this, needed Sam so fucking bad.

Sam's hips thrust upward into empty air, as he gasped in a breath, feeling the small tingle of burn at his lip. The cut, the one he had made with his fangs. Oh God... what was Dean doing? Why was he torturing him like this? "Fuck.... Dean... want it so bad... want you." his hips moved, thrusting his denim clad cock into his squeezing hand as his head rolled against the pillowed settee back, eyes still squeezed closed. Lips parted, he sucked in gulps of air as though he needed them, the blood pounding in his temples, teeth aching. He could almost taste Dean again, taste him over the deer he had gorged himself on to try and stop the hunger, to passify the desire for Dean's blood and only Dean's. It had worked for the time, but nothing had dampened his desire, his need to possess him, to claim him, own him. To make Dean admit that he was his, that he would always be his.

Running his thumb over drops of precum beading at his tip, Dean slicked his cock and started to stroke harder, faster, his eyes rolling back as waves of need crashed over him. "That's it Sam... that's it," he whispered harshly, imagining Sam behind him, leaning over his shoulder, tongue fucking the corner of his mouth as he pushed his cock deep inside Dean. He'd never gone this far... never though of having Sam's cock lodged up his ass, but he didn't care... it felt right now, the way he was being shoved into the wall, the way Sam was fighting his needs but giving Dean what he wanted. He reached behind him and grabbed Sam's hand, bringing it over his weeping cock again.

Dean went wild on the bed, fucking to the images in his head. It was so real, felt so fucking real... just like Sam was right there with him. His balls started to draw up. He rolled onto his side, jerking his hand up and down faster and faster, eyes screwed shut as he moaned out his need. "Now Sam... now."

Sam shook his head as he lay there, "Have to stop, I can't..." with a grunt, Sam tried to block out Dean's feelings, tried to calm himself down, his chest rising and falling with the strain to control his reactions to what he had been feeling. At first, he'd managed it, had managed to lock Dean out, to make his mind, his body shut out Dean's feelings, the sensations, but curiosity, hunger, the need to know, without the fear of Dean being with someone else, with it just being between the two of them, even if Dean didn't know he was there, like a peeping-tom, listening in on his body's reactions, to what he was doing, made him open up to Dean again. 

Sam's breath left him in a rush, his eyes opening wide as all the sensations hit him anew, full force, wild and vivid, hot and scorching him. His back arched as his hips thrust upward, his hand on his cock gripping tighter a low growled groan leaving him as his lips parted, eyes rolling back in his head. Muscles tensing, as warmth pooled low in his belly. "Dean.." his name tore from Sam's lips in a groan, as he felt Dean's release. At the same moment, Sam spent himself in his jeans, his head thrashing on the pillow, teeth clenched, eyes squeezed shut. 

After, Sam lay there feeling more relaxed than he had thought possible and not nearly as much of a threat, as dangerous to Dean as he had a few moments before when he might have jumped out his window to get to him. His head slowly rolled on the pillow as he thought of Dean, dark golden hazel eyes landing on the phone, the corner of his lips curled upward. Pulling his hand from the crotch of his jeans, Sam reached for his phone, hitting the redial. When Dean answered, sounding as breathless as he was, Sam's smile grew slightly, "I thought I should call."


	9. Chapter 9

Just the sound of Sam's voice washing over him now did things to Dean's insides. He let out a hot breath, swallowed and asked. "Yeah? And why's that."

Sam continued to smile into the phone, as he unfastened his jeans, kicking them off to change, phone tucked between ear and shoulder. He sighed softly, "I dunno, thought maybe we should talk?"

"About what?" He licked his lips. "I thought we just did." He moved to get comfortable, kicking his shorts off completely and pulling the sheets to partially cover himself. "What else is there to talk about?"

Sam didn't answer as he pulled off his boxers, tossing them on the floor. "I know what just happened. I felt you."

"I know it's late and I may be sleepy, but that doesn't mean you're making any sense." The hell he knew.

Sam rolled his eyes, "I felt you, touching... I felt you getting off," he said with an annoyed sigh. Dean had to ruin everything, didn't he? Dean just had to make everything difficult for him. Everything from talking to him and protecting him to touching him and loving him. "I came when you did," he said softly into the phone, worrying his lip after he spoke.

Blood roared in Dean's ears as his brain blurred for a second. He sat up, arms braced on the mattress on either side of his body as he stared at the window. "Are you outside?" He demanded. "If you break it again, Sam..." He was trying to act normal, but he felt far from normal. Had Sam been watching... had he come too? He should be angry at the violation of his privacy, but instead, the thought was making his heart beat as fast as it had when he'd been pressing towards release.

Sam shook his head as he looked around his room, "No, I'm at home, Dean." he smiled slightly, "If you don't believe me, I can put you on speaker. I got Jasper and Alice playing in the background."

He let out another heavy breath. "How... what do you mean you felt me." He knew Sam had said shit like that before but he couldn't mean literally. "You can't have felt..." his gaze fell to his groin area, nah... it was impossible.

 

Sam pulled to his feet suddenly self conscious about laying mostly naked in his room talking to Dean. Walking to his dresser, he pulled out a clean pair of boxers and slipped them on before he spoke as he walked back to the settee and laid back down. "I mean, I felt you. I..." Sam sighed muttering, "I can't believe you're making me tell you this. Thank God you can't see me. "I could feel your hand on your cock, could feel your pleasure, your lust, I felt you come."

As the words sank in, Dean felt his neck and ears get hot. Just to test, because he couldn't bring himself to believe, he pinched his own abs, hard, making a face at the pain.

Sam grunted softly and quirked a brow, "Why did you just do that? Why'd, you pinched yourself? Are you testing me?" Sam chuckled. "Go ahead, do something else. Not painful though, please."

A wicked grin spread over Dean's face at the possibilities. He shoved his middle finger in his mouth and sucked on it, pulling it slowly in and out, wrapping his tongue around it, then sucking on it. "Did that hurt?" He sucked again.

Sam's gaze fell to his hand laying by his side on the settee as he licked his lips, "Mm, no. Not painful. Warm. Wet." he closed his eyes, "Good."

A little out of spite, Dean nipped his own finger. 

Sam's eyes flew open, "Ow!" frowning into the phone at the sudden nip he felt against his own finger. _”Jerk.”_

Chuckling, Dean licked it again, soothing the pain before pulling it out. "Lucky dog. Someone else can do the heavy lifting and you get to just sit back and..." He took a breath, "all the time? If I'm sleepy you feel that?" It was both amusing and a bit scary to know someone could feel everything you did. 

Sam shrugged, "Anytime I concentrate on you, think about you, I can feel you. It's been that way ever since the cave." Sam licked his lips frowning, "Dean? What is that tattoo you have? Does it... _mean_ something?" he wasn't about to tell Dean that he could use his TK on everyone BUT him. Dean was already cocky enough, he wasn't adding fuel to that fire. Maybe someday he'd tell him, but not now, not yet.

"My tatt... you like it?" he asked, surprised at the sudden shift in topic. Sam hadn't asked about it before, and it was usually the first thing anyone who saw his chest commented on. "People either love it or hate it," he shrugged.

"Sure, but that's not my point. Does it... is there something supernatural about it? Does it mean something?" It was the only reason Sam could think of, the only thing that Dean had that other people didn't, the only reason that made sense as to why his TK didn't work with him. He'd noticed the tatt before, but, hadn't thought to bring it up. Dean's safety from himself had been upfront in his mind at the time, not what the meaning of some ink might be.

"Yeah, it's protective." Figured. Sam just wasn't as shallow as himself. "It helps when I'm facing demons. It's a living amulet. They used to be able to throw me around the room and choke the hell out of me without even touching until dad got it. It was some kind of reward for something, I don't know what. He could only get one, so he had it put on me." He fell into silence.

Sam nodded, the corner of his mouth lifting in a half grin, "Well, that's good to know." He paused, "I mean, that it keeps you safe," Sam rolled his eyes at himself.

"Could say that." He rubbed his palm over the tattoo, then lay back down. "At the club. You were looking at those cuffs. What... what were you thinking?" Once again, he remembered Jasper's question about whether there had been any ‘tying up’ going on.

Sam pressed his lips together, frowning. He shook his head, "I was... I had a daydream about you. It was... like at the car, only it ended much better." He went silent for a moment, "Did you see the mattress in the corner of the room? We were on that." Sam cleared his throat, squeezed his eyes closed, "I, uh, " he gave a nervous chuckle, "I kinda licked you all over. And felt you, skin to skin, it was..." Sam swallowed, "better than anything I'd ever thought of before. So real..."

Dean's lips quirked upwards. "Did you tie me up, Sammy? Could I move, or was I at your mercy. Did you make me squirm and beg?" He wished he could see Sam's face.

"Dean..." Sam groaned, throwing an arm over his eyes, as his face turned a soft shade of pink, "Tied up. I used my TK while I was kissing you... moved the cuffs where I wanted them, fastened them. Gagged you with your tie." he sighed, "Can we stop now?"

"You gagged me?" His eyebrows went as high as they could. "Jeez Sam, you're one kinky virgin. Who'd have thought?." He'd never really been one to think about games with ropes, but the idea of cuffs clamping around his wrist... moving at Sam's will, it was pretty hot. "I... I don't know about the gag. Rest of it has potential." His breathing went a bit shallow. "Did you fuck me?"

Sam swallowed, shook his head before he realized Dean couldn't see him, "No. I, we were thrusting against each other, our cocks sliding together, my arms were tucked under you, holding your shoulders to pull you as I pushed. I was fucking against you so hard the mattress was moving across the room." He moaned softly, shook his head, "Yeah, Dean, I know how kinky it is, believe me. I spent five years bound with chains. I have no idea why... _how_ I could ever... Can we not talk about this? It's bad enough to have ones sister show you how to give a blow job, it's worse to tell the person... to tell you about my... about this."

"If I've got no privacy because you get to feel what I feel, then you get none too. It's only fair." Dean didn't like the image of Rosalie that popped into his head, showing Sam 'the ropes.' He pressed his lips together. "You mean Blondie showed you how to _get one_?," he corrected, tightly.

Sam frowned, "How to get one? Get one what?" he pulled his arm away from his eyes as his brows furrowed in confusion. "Blondie? Rosalie? _That's_ your Blondie?" Sam laughed outright, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry." He fought not to laugh, "Do I look dead to you?" he snickered, "If I ever touched Rosalie, which would just be... awkward to say the least, Emmett would kill me!" he shook his head, "No she didn't _give_ me one! She showed me how to give one. Pornos. Explained the process. She and Alice both did."

"Right.. whatever." He sniffed and put a pillow over his eyes, cutting the light out. "You don't have to tell me. I don't give a shit if she likes someone else to do the warming for her, and does the finishing off. To each his own, right?"

Sam frowned angrily, "Dean stop it. That's my sister you're talking about. Where did you get such an outrageous idea from? The kids at school? You actually listen to that shit? I'd think you know me better than that." He shook his head, "The only blond who has ever touched me, well, _he_ isn't even all that blond anymore, is you. Does the idea bother you? If it were true? Which it isn’t, but, if it was?"

"Well one of you is lying. She and Alice said... doesn't matter, and no... it fucking doesn't bother me. Why should it?" Maybe it was in response to the annoyance in Sam's voice, or it was just the thought of Ros and Sam, but Dean was done with the conversation. "It's late. I think I'm gonna turn in."

Sam huffed, "Fine. And I've never lied to you, well, maybe at first, but not since. I.. nevermind, like you said, you don't care. Good night, Dean." Sam hung up the phone with a huff and reached for his stereo remote. He had no idea why either of his sisters would have said such a thing, it simply wasn't true. But, it didn't matter, it wasn't like Dean really gave a shit anyway.

 

* * *

Sam hadn't been able to get the conversation with Dean out of his head all night, even after listening to half of all his favorite CD's. He'd finally cornered Ros and Alice and asked them what the hell was going on. Having heard their side, he couldn't be angry with them, in fact, if anything, it only made him love them more. Their protectiveness of him was sweet. Even if it was a little misplaced with Dean. He wasn't the one to worry about between the two of them.

 

After getting ready for school, Sam left the house early, stopping to get coffee for Dean and some breakfast from the diner he liked. The lady at the counter actually talked him into getting something for himself as well, though it would only go to waste, but it had seemed to make the woman happy to think he was going to eat it.

 

Pulling the Camaro into Dean's driveway, Sam turned off the engine and exited the car. Breakfast in hand, he leaped up to his window, easily using his TK to open the lock and slide the window open. Ducking inside in one graceful move, Sam set the breakfast and coffees on Dean's nightstand as he slowly sat down on his bed beside him.

 

Golden hazel eyes intent on Dean's face, Sam reached a hand out, running his fingers through the hair at Dean's temple. "Morning, sleepy head."

"Uh uh, go away," Dean pulled the cover up over his head as protection. "Alarm isn't even on," he grumbled. 

Sam chuckled softly, "Aww, come on, I brought breakfast and coffee." He ran his hand down to Dean's shoulder, shaking him gently. 

"Five more minutes," he negotiated, groaning again when Sam wouldn't leave him alone. Pulling the sheets back down, he forced his eyes open. "What's going on? You get your kicks from torturing me?" He gripped Sam's wrist, to stop him from waking him even more.

Sam smiled at him, "Yeah, I thought I'd torture you with a hot breakfast, coffee and my smiling face." he chuckled, "Don't whine so much." He leaned down, his lips near Dean's, "Or would you be in a better mood if I kissed you awake?" he asked, before pulling back with a shrug, "Future reference."

"Tease." Smiling sleepily, he drew in the smell of coffee and breakfast. "Didn't think vampires could cook." 

 

Sam smiled as he tore his gaze away from Dean to look toward the breakfast, then back. "We can't. Never use the kitchen..." he smiled, "Other than to leave annoying notes on the fridge," he quickly added with a wink, "no, I got this from..." Sam pressed his lips together, "Uh, a diner I found." He'd almost spilled the beans about buying Dean's dessert for him. 

Pushing up, Dean put the pillows behind him and greedily took the coffee. "Thanks." Even though it was way too hot and burned his mouth, he drank a few gulps down. "Um... what's all this for?" Keeping his eyes on Sam, and wondering what would happen if he just leaned in to breath in his scent. Instead, he pulled the bag over and started to open his breakfast. Scrambled egg and bacon burrito, just what he liked.

 

Sam shrugged, "I wanted to be with you this morning, and I've heard that a way to a man's heart is through his stomach," Sam smirked, "so here I am."

He _wanted to be with him_ , that made Dean look at him and grin. "I don't really have a heart, but I have a REAL BIG..." He took a bite, chewing as he watched Sam's usually alabaster skin take on some color. He swallowed, and pointed down at himself with the burrito. "Stomach. And it's all yours if you want it." Eyes filled with laughter, he took another bite.

 

He watched Dean for a few minutes, frowning slightly, "I..." Sam licked his lips, "I don't want to start a fight, but I talked to my sisters last night. They told me why they told you that, about Ros _being_ with me, because they felt they needed to protect me from you. They think you're going to hurt me." Sam paused thoughtfully, "Well, Ros thinks that, Alice said she tried to be reasonable with you, but she likened talking to you with my wanting to keep deer as pets." He chuckled softly and shook his head at the look on Dean's face, "long story."

Dean tensed only slightly, but raised an eyebrow.

 

Sam looked at him, golden hazel eyes intent on Dean's face, "Does it bother you? Thinking of me with Ros?"

"A little." He wiped his mouth, trying to pull his gaze away. "Well, yeah." He probably shouldn't even be admitting this, it would make them all so freakin' happy. "Yeah, I know, it shouldn't. I should just be happy because you and she... you could... well… she's not a deer," he ended off, stuffing more food in his mouth before he could make a fool of himself. It was way too early for this convo, way too early.

Sam smiled and shook his head, "Um, no. The idea of being with Ros is just...." Sam made a face. "She's beautiful, sure, and she's perfect, I know. But, she's with Emmett, she's my _sister_. Besides, she's not my type." He shrugged, "Alice would be more my type, but THAT would be beyond weird," he made an even worse face. "No, I think I'd rather not even think about it. Thanks just the same," he gave a visible shudder, grinning.

Dean wasn't convinced, but he was feeling too mellow to challenge Sam on any of what he said. Then his stupid alarm started to go off, and he cursed. Hitting the off button, he finished the last bite of the burrito, and put his legs over the side of the bed, now sitting right next to Sam. "There's another one in here, is it..." He'd never seen any food pass through Sam's perfect teeth.

"For you." Sam nodded, glancing toward the second cup of coffee, "So's that. The woman at the diner was... Well, she knew who's son I am, so she wanted me to eat."

 

"I'll put it in the fridge, don't toss that coffee though." Two cups would be perfect. 

 

Sam nodded, watching as Dean pulled from the bed and started to walk toward the bathroom. Sam's hand snaked out, grabbing Dean's wrist stopping him. Dark golden hazel eyes looked up into Dean's face as he looked down at him, "Wait." Sam told him softly, as he pulled him closer to stand between Sam's legs.

 

Pulling Dean's arm behind his back as he did, Sam grabbed Dean's other wrist, pulling it back, taking them both in one hand, Sam pushed Dean's tee up, exposing his bare stomach. Leaning in, Sam closed his eyes, inhaling Dean's scent, as he pressed his lips softly to the tender skin of Dean's abs. Felt the muscles ripple under the surface as his tongue darted out to lick small circle patterns against his flesh before making his way lower, nipping softly with his front teeth, careful of his fangs.

Arms trapped behind his back, Dean arched his back slightly under the unexpected assault of Sam's mouth and tongue,leaving fiery hot trails across his skin. Swallowing hard, he looked down at the sight of that dark head moving lower and lower, his stomach muscles tightening in response to the messages he was getting. "This _your_ breakfast," Dean asked breathlessly, his cock twitching with excitement.

Reaching the waistband of Dean's boxers, Sam ran his tongue along the top, then upward, dipping his tongue into Dean's belly button, before trailing back downward again. Pulling his head back just slightly, Sam opened his now coal black eyes and looked up at Dean.

Moaning, Dean tried to pull his hands free... wanting to run his fingers through Sam's hair, wanting to shove his face closer. Sam didn't budge, and now he was looking at him with those eyes, and that look that never failed to drive him to the edge. "Don't stop... please... not yet," he pleaded, letting out a breath when he wasn't pushed away.

 

Slowly Sam closed in again, leaning in once more and covering Dean's cock with his mouth through his boxers, merely breathing, opened mouthed against him, afraid to do more than that, not wanting to hurt him, to push too far. He ran his tongue along the ridge through the material, back up to Dean's belly button before pulling away and releasing him. "Guess you better get ready for school, huh?" he asked softly.

The instant his arms were free, Dean brought his hands to Sam's shoulders, eyes locking with him. "You can't leave me like this." Stepping forward, he pressed his aching cock against Sam's chest. God his cock was so damned sensitive, he could feel every muscular ridge on Sam's chest. He started to grind against him, needing him so fucking bad he could barely think. "Do you feel what I feel, now Sam? Want you so much, Goddamit I want you so much."

Sam groaned, biting his bottom lip as his hands raised to hold Dean's hips, he hung his head, shaking it slowly, "I..." he raised his head, inky black eyes looking up at Dean, "I don't want to hurt you again."

"Then don't. Fight it," he demanded, frustrated when Sam held him away from his body. Dipping his head down suddenly, he licked a path across the seam of Sam's mouth, counting on the element of surprise. As he pushed his tongue into the vampire's mouth, he felt his hands go limp. Instantly, he was pushing Sam back on the bed, still straddling his body, but this time sitting on his abs and grinding into him. It was so much better than just imagining this... so much better.

 _Fight it_. Fighting it was all he ever did when he was around Dean. Did he not understand that yet? Did he not understand how bad his teeth ached, how loudly the blood pounded in his temples, how his body ached, how he hungered to posses Dean in every way possible?

 

Warning bells were going off in Sam's head as his body ached, his teeth, his cock, so full and heavy, as the blood pounded, as he listened to Dean's blood sing through his veins. Sam's arms rose to push against Dean, instead, fingers digging into his arms as he held onto him, a muffled moan sounding low in Sam's throat. He had to stop this, he would stop this. Just another second, just kiss a little longer, taste Dean's lips for another second, it couldn't hurt to kiss him, right? Just a few more moments of a kiss, of being able to experience a glimpse of heaven.

Afraid Sam would quit at any moment, and true to his nick name, Dean pressed full steam ahead. Sliding one hand around to cup Sam's neck, he pulled him closer as he fitted their mouths together in a no holds barred, bruising kiss. His tongue darted in and out of the heat of Sam's mouth, stroking and tangling, drawing a response. The longer it went on, the more he burned. Body and soul, he was burning up. 

Between each thrust of his hips, he started to slide his cock down Sam's body, determined to straddle his thighs. "Want to touch you under your clothes. Want to jerk you off like I did to myself," he whispered, very aware of how his words were affecting Sam, and that Sam’s fingers were digging into him so hard, he would be bruised. Never let it be said that Dean Winchester didn't like to play with fire.

Sam's breaths were coming faster, he felt hot all over despite his cool skin, shaking his head he looked up at Dean, though he didn't move. "I can't." The words were torn from his throat. "It's too much, too much and I can't fight that hard." He rolled, so that Dean was under him, inky black eyes gazing into green. "I won't hurt you." He told him softly, pressing a soft kiss to Dean's lips, before pulling away and moving to the window.

 

Dean's groan of protest fell on deaf ears. He lay on his back, his shorts tenting, his body flushed with need... need for Sam. Scrubbing his hand over his face, he bit down on any words that might escape him. Right now, even if he knew the reason Sam pulled away, he couldn't help resenting... couldn't help the building frustration... couldn't help the seed of hurt that blossomed in his stomach. He wasn't used to this. People said 'no' to him all the time, every day, every hour... _except_ in bed. And hearing it from Sam, it just... it didn't feel right.

Sam ran a hand through his hair, his other hand gripping the window sill hard. "I -I'm sorry, I shouldn't have... I just wanted to touch you. I didn't mean to..." he sighed, hung his head and licked his lips. Slowly he raised his head, "And the answer was yes. I could feel what you felt. It intensified what I was feeling. Pushed me that much harder." He shook his head slowly, "you have no idea how hard it is to fight this Dean. I know you think that I'm horrible to you, but I'm even worse to myself."

Swallowing, Dean sat up. "It’s like a big cosmic joke, isn't it?" Scooting to the edge of the bed, still trying to get a hold of himself, he met Sam's eyes. "This... whatever this is. I'm the exact opposite of what you need. "I run, when the light flashes 'don't walk'... you wait until the next light. I'm not patient, I'm no fucking saint, I don't like to suffer... And you, you have all the time in the world. You've already suffered more anyone should so this..." he looked down at his erection, "it's nothing for you. We're just... a train wreck waiting to happen. You know it, I know it... but we keep coming back, don't we."

Sam quirked a brow, "This is nothing for me? Are you sure about that?" he licked his lips, shifted his weight, "What's your favorite food, Dean? The one thing that you think you'd die if they ever stopped making it, stopped having it, if you could never eat it again. What is it? Humor me."

Dean rolled his eyes. "I didn't mean 'nothing'... just the physical part of it." Sam was still looking at him, so he shrugged. "I like pie, but anything is replaceable. Lately I have a Goddamned craving for chocolate chip cookies too," he gave Sam an accusatory look, because that was all his damned fault.

Sam ignored the cookie comment and nodded, "Yeah, well, maybe I want the physical too," he said softly, sighing, "Pie. Okay. Now, picture the one person on this planet you want more than anything. The one who you dream about, who you think about when you," he nodded toward the bed, "you jerk off. Got her image in your head?"

 

Sam licked his lips, "Now imagine she's made of tissue paper and she's full of pie. Head to toe, nothing but your favorite flavor of pie... and YOU haven't eaten in a hundred years." Sam told him flatly.

 

"All you have to do is pierce that tissue paper and you can have that pie, you can eat that pie out of the one you desire so damn much it makes you fucking hurt. Now, add to that the fact that she wants to fuck you and sex only makes you hungrier. Along with your hunger though, comes pain. Your teeth ache so bad, you wish you could pull every one of them out of your head," Sam grimaced at the words, remembering the doctor’s threat.

 

He cleared his throat, "And your blood pounds in your temples so hard that you can't hear anything else... other than the sound of the pie moving inside your tissue paper lover anyway. Now... do you see what _I_ go through?"

"That so fucking hot." Dean got up and only barely prevented himself from walking over and plastering himself against the vampire. "I get what you're saying. See... I'd handle it different. I'd go find something that hit the same spot... cookies, something else. Maybe it's cause I never had one person to dream about," he admitted. "My dad loved my mom that way," he met Sam's eyes. "It didn't work out so good for him."

Sam sighed, nodding. "Everything dies, Dean." _Except me._ "You can't let that prevent you from finding someone," he said softly. Sighing, he turned toward the window, "And we do find other things to... eat." He looked back at Dean, "Deer. But, it's like humans living on," Sam frowned trying to remember what Edward always said, "tofu." He made a face, "You can eat it and survive on it," he shook his head with a smile, "but it's not pie."

"You didn't see how my dad changed after she die..." he started to argue, trailing off and making a face that pretty much mimicked Sam's. "Tofu. Blech." He took a few steps toward the bathroom and turned. "You know, if it weren't for my blood... you wouldn't think I was pie." He didn't really doubt that there would be no reason for Sam... a ‘high and mighty’ Cullen... to ever be looking in on a hunter.

Sam shrugged, "You've had the same blood all your life and I never had these feelings until lately. It's not just the blood. I'm sure it's part of it, I _am_ a vampire," he started out the window and paused, "After all, you're not the only piece of tissue paper running around full of mouth watering pie." With that he jumped out the window.

Dean laughed out loud at that, running to the widow, to shout, "Jerk." He didn't care if he shouted loud enough to wake the neighbors. One last look at Sam's face before the guy disappeared into his car, and he closed and locked the window. 

* * * 

[1.5 weeks later]

 

Back from school, Dean was on the floor putting together a table since he'd started to replace the furniture downstairs. As he twisted a screw into place, he realized why he'd been uptight all day. Routine. Sam had ruined his routine, that's what it was... definitely. He'd gotten used to Sam appearing in the early morning and freaking waking him up before the alarm. But he'd bring coffee and sometimes breakfast, and Dean could forgive anything if he didn't have to do the cooking himself.

But today, it was sunny. No Sam in the morning. No Sam at school. No Cullens. But a bright day which really should have made Dean happy. They had more than their share of clouds and rain around here. 

He got up and turned the table right side up, pushing it to see if it was holding together alright, before getting under it to tighten a couple more screws. Things had been going okay with him and Sam. He liked their morning chats. At school, they mostly sat with their own friends or Sam with the Cullens. In class, they somehow usually ended up next to each other, sometimes talking, and sometimes not.

Dean had learned more about Sam. It turned out that the vampire had to concentrate on him to feel what was going on with him. If he didn't concentrate, nothing came to him unless there was some sort of intensity, like pain. As far as how he could find him, apparently he was a vampire blood hound because he claimed to be able to sniff his trail. Course that made Dean want to rub himself with onions or some agent that would hide his scent... just to see how good Sam was at his bloodhounding. A grin broke out of his face as he remembered how displeased Sam was at his calling him a ‘vampy bloodhound.’

A couple of times, Dean had gone on short hunts and Sam had asked where he'd been. He might not be following him everywhere but he had an uncanny way of knowing when Dean had gone away or been up to something. And he was curious as hell. Hiding his research about the people who'd imprisoned him was tough. Dean was getting closer though... one of these days...

As for the sex, they moved a step forward and a step back. Well... they did manage to kiss for longer periods and touch each other a little. It still frustrated the hell out of him when Sam pulled away, but at least he wasn't pulling that other shit where he wouldn't respond. Very often, he'd get back at Sam by torturing the hell out of himself as he jerked off. The best part was that Sam _always_ called him afterwards with a report on his reactions. Hmm, maybe he'd have him calling tonight.

 

*

Sam climbed gracefully through the window of Dean's bedroom to wait for him. At home earlier, Carlisle had checked Sam over again to see how he was progressing. Thankfully he hadn't found any lingering weaknesses. It seemed that Sam had finished 'healing' and was back to his old self, at least physically if not mentally and emotionally, although those had improved by leaps and bounds, especially on days when things were going well between himself and Dean. Somehow, Dean seemed to make Sam more level headed, less quick to anger, and the memories that had plagued Sam were forgotten.

 

Of course, that was only on their good days, on the bad ones, it seemed that Sam didn't just take a step backward, he took a flying jumping sumersault backward. Anger was not a strong enough word to describe Sam's reactions to things, and his quiet moments were plagued by memories that ended up with him not wanting to be touched again, by anyone.

 

He was now, half leaning, half sitting on the window sill as he awaited Dean to come up the stairs. He could hear him tinkering around downstairs, but Sam was patient, he'd waited a hundred years for him, he could wait until Dean finished whatever it was he was doing.

*

Setting the table straight, Dean pushed it to where he had his old dining room table. No chairs yet, but maybe he could pick something up at a garage sale. He didn't need many, just a couple would do.

As he walked up the stairs and to his room, he twirled the screw driver around and then aimed it, like a gunslinger in the old west. Only he wasn't pointing the damned thing at an empty room, he was pointing at Sam and feeling extremely foolish. Tossing the screw driver onto a shelf, he coughed into his hand. "Ah... don't you ever knock?" 

Sam looked over at him, arms crossed over his chest, the corner of his mouth lifted in a half smile. "Nope." He pointed at Dean, "And you should know that by now, 'Tex'," he chuckled, letting his arms fall to his sides.

"Shuddup. I was just..." Yeah, probably better to deflect than to argue about this. "Missed my coffee this morning." His gaze locked with Sam's.

Sam tilted his head, his eyes intent on Dean's before he licked his lip and tore his gaze away. _Missed me?_ "It was sunny," he shrugged, "You know I can't go out when it's sunny. It would show..." he paused and looked back at Dean, "you know."

 

Sam sighed softly, "And my Dad used the opportunity to give me a check-up. So, it was good that we were home today." He tilted his head, "How was _your_ day?"

"Check up?" It had never occurred to Dean that something could be wrong with a vampire. Until now. His face immediately turned serious. "What... what's wrong with you?" His gaze traveled up and down Sam's body as he walked up to him, grabbing his arm to make him stand straight so he could see.

Sam frowned at him as he stood up, one eyebrow quirked, "Looking for something, are we?" he shook his head, "You wouldn't see it, Dean. It doesn't work that way." Sam smiled slightly, "I'm okay.... now. Finally all healed up from what happened. My Dad's been keeping a close eye on my progress." His smile widened, "So, next time I break a window, there won't be blood for you to clean up," he winked.

Okay, he was fine. Dean let go of him but his eyes were still glued on Sam's face. "Just glass and wood and..." he took a deep breath. "It had a lasting effect on you?" Following Sam's cue, he didn't mention that place either.

Sam nodded, "After so long... being drained... was weaker than I should have been. Able to be injured. I think that was the part of the exam I hated the most. Everytime Carlisle had to cut me."

"You let him..." He didn't know why that made him furious, but he didn't vent. It was Sam's dad, and he knew there was hero worship there. Carlisle could apparently fight the need for human blood. He was so good at it that he was a doctor at the hospital, exposed to it all the time. "Are you sure you're alright?" A note of doubt crept in his voice.

Sam nodded, "Yeah," he smiled at Dean, "I am." he frowned slightly, "You never told me about your day though. Homework?"

He was persistent if anything. "So, you're... one hundred percent, right?" Meaning to test Sam's reaction time, Dean dove toward him, determined to tackle him down to the ground. Only, things didn't go exactly as planned. Dean didn't even see him move, but all he knew was that he was on the ground, eating carpet, and then looking up at Sam, who was looking down at him like he was a moron. _Shit_.

Sam was frowning slightly, brows raised as he looked down at Dean. "Uh... you _always_ suddenly dive onto the carpet like that? 'Nam flashbacks?" he turned more toward Dean and licked his lips, grinning, "No, wait, I know... you saw a bug and wanted to save me from it?" he actually giggled.

"Shaddup." That was twice today. Grabbing Sam's ankles, he started to use his legs to pull himself up, deliberately resting his forehead against Sam's groin for a moment... long enough to feel Sam tense, then simultaneously twisting so his knee was behind Sam and grabbing him by the hips and shoving him backwards over it.

 

Sam stifled his laughter as he watched Dean grab his ankles and start to pull himself up. When Dean's cheek rested against his cock through his jeans, Sam tensed, ready to move away as his cock twitched, but then he was suddenly thrown off balance, falling backward to the floor as he felt Dean give him a push.

 

Landing with a thud, Sam gasped, eyes wide as he looked at Dean. "What the hell was that for?"

Smirking, Dean poked him in the chest. "Laughing. That's what it's for." He started to get up. "Tell Carlisle that your reaction time is... human slow. You'll have to work on that."

Sam frowned at him and reached up, grabbing Dean by the shirt and pulled him back down, rolling over on top of Dean. "Slow? I don't think so. That was why you were eating carpet, cause I'm so slow. I just wasn't expecting you to play dirty." he narrowed his eyes, "My strength is back 100% too."

"Oh yeah?" Arching up, he melded his mouth to Sam's, kissing him hard. Once he felt him start to respond, he rolled them over, so he was on top and pulling back. "Up to human levels too, huh?" The need to one-up Sam died a quick death the instant the vampire licked his lips. "Now who's playing dirty?" he asked, his voice laced with need. Yeah, he needed to stop... because this would only lead to Sam leaving, and he didn't want him to leave just yet.

 

Sam looked up at Dean, biting his bottom lip. He shook his head frowning, "I'm not playing dirty. If I were playing dirty, you'd know it." He grinned, "You should see Emmett and I wrestle sometime. Or play football." He grinned wider, "THEN we play dirty."

"Really." Dean wasn't at all pleased. "So Emmet... he," without warning, Dean swooped down and covered Sam's mouth with his, pushing his tongue deep inside Sam's mouth and kissing him thoroughly, before lifting his head. "Gives you tonsile check-ups too?" Somehow he'd managed to pull Sam's hands high above his head. The vampire might be stronger and faster, but he was easily distracted.

Sam frowned at him, glancing above his head at his hands, before looking back at Dean, "What!? Emm... no! Where did you get a crazy idea like that? And why do you keep insisting I'm screwing someone in my family?" he huffed, "Next your gonna tell me that because we play baseball together I'm banging Esme, er, my Mom."

"Okay, first of all that... total mood killer." Glad for it, Dean got up and off Sam. "And second, I don't know why you find this all shocking when we're talking about _your_ family...." Putting his hand out for Sam, he continued. "Seriously, I get that no one is really related but you could come up with better covers than brothers and sisters. I mean why not get different last names... Emmet Cullen and girlfriend, Jasper Cullen and girlfriend. Sam Cullen and... ah... well you get the idea."

Sam frowned at the hand Dean offered him and quirked a brow before getting up unaided. "Uh, we were all adopted by Carlisle. What last name would you like us to have after that? Disney names?" he tilted his head, "And for your information Jasper and Ros's last names are Hale, not Cullen. The only Cullen's are me, Edward, Emmett and Alice." he frowned, "And what do you mean _my_ family? What's wrong with _my_ family? We don't all screw each other like everyone thinks, we don't drink from humans and we brush our teeth twice a day." The last of it he said with a snicker.

"Bet you go through a lot of brushes though." He wasn't gonna be able to explain to Sam... if he didn't get how weird his family was perceived by now, he'd never get it. "Anyway... I ah, got you a present. I was gonna give it to you in the morning," he said, heading to his nightstand and pulling a flat, brown paper wrapped item out. "I _know_ you're gonna like this," he winked, and tossed it for Sam to catch.

Sam watched Dean as he walked over to his nightstand, frowning in confusion, "You... got me a present? Really?" Catching the brown paper wrapped item, Sam slowly looked down at it then back at Dean, "Do you want me to open it?"

 

Sam licked his lips and started to tear open the package only to stop, eyes wide as he saw what was inside. Swallowing, he looked back up at Dean, his shock slowly melting away into an angry frown. "This isn't funny."

"It's kind of funny." Seeing Sam was serious, Dean was confused. Embarrassed or shy, that he'd expected. Anger, he hadn't. Crossing the room, he pulled the magazine out of the vampire's hand. "Sorry. My mistake. Thought you'd like it." He looked at the skin mag featuring lots of rope and cuffs, and both heterosexual and gay sex, just like at the club that had seemed to grab Sam's imagination that night a few weeks ago. "Really."

Moving away, he tossed it on top of a pile of his own stack of favorite porn.

Sam followed behind Dean, snatching the magazine back up again. "I thought you gave it to me?" he sighed and looked down at it again, then back up at Dean, worrying his lip.

"Look... just fucking throw it away, alright? Sorry it's not a Rolex." Face set, he went to sit on the bed. He'd seen the excitement in Sam's eyes when he'd heard present. He should have known a magazine didn't qualify as a present to most people. 

Sam frowned in confusion, "A Rolex?" he stared at Dean opened mouthed, "You think this has to do with money!? Are you nuts!? I don't care..." he huffed and ran a hand through his hair.

Dean snorted in disbelief. "Don't have to pretend, alright? I... well you get me coffee and I didn't know what the hell else to get you that you don't already have. Seriously, just forget about it." 

Sam huffed and shook his head, It's not... I.. it means a lot to me that you got me _anything_ , I want it... it's just that, this... you...uh, you don't think that I'm... I mean..." Sam suddenly felt very self conscious and quickly moved back over near the window, looking out. "Sorry. I don't.. it's not something I talk about... to anyone."

"What?" His eyes drilled holes in Sam's back.

Laying his forehead against the glass of the window, Sam closed his eyes as though that might shield him from sight and licked his lips. "I spent five years bound, Dean. And before that, there were forty years of my life that I..." one hand raised to lay on the glass near his head. " _How_ can this be _okay_?"

"How can what be okay?" He took a breath. "Sam, you mean your... kink?" If it weren't for Sam's history, Dean would have laughed out loud. But the tragedy of Sam's past took all vestiges of humor away from the situation.

Sam groaned, squeezing his eyes closed. Did he _have to_ say it out loud? He nodded his head against the glass, "Yeah.. that."

"It's just a kink. Not reality... you just like to play a game, that's all. Come on, you saw how many people were at that place and it wasn't even midnight. And this mag, you think it’s just for you? They've got hundreds of thousands reading it for the articles." Yeah, that was sure to go over Sam's head. "Hey. Look at me."

Sam slowly pulled away from the window and turned around, looking none too sure, a frown on his slightly flushed face. He felt like jumping out the window, but he couldn't think of a good excuse to leave at the moment. He wanted to pretend this hadn't happened, that it hadn't been brought up. He was embarrassed and ashamed and he knew, just _knew_ that Dean thought he was a sicko. He hung is head after a moment, as he stood there fidgeting.

"It's okay, it really is. Everyone has something they like to do in bed, something they don't really like talking about... but it's there, everyone has it. It's... normal. You don't believe me? Have EVER been on the web Sam? Look up 'most common sexual fantasies,' just do it... you'll see how normal you are. Oh, and if you land across any new kinks you like... make sure you tell me. Guess what I fuck to when I'm alone?"

Sam lifted his head and crossed an arm over his chest, bracing his elbow on his arm he ran a hand down his face, shook his head, "I have no idea, Dean. What?"

Dean rolled his eyes. "Your fantasy. Tying me up, that's what."

Sam's arms fell away from his chest as he stood there staring at Dean. He'd shocked him for the second time now, nearly speechless. "You do? I mean… me? I mean..." he bit his lip, "You don't think I'm dirty?"

Dean was off the bed and in a few strides, he was pulling Sam's shirt and bringing him close. "Baby, you know I like dirty." Slanting his mouth over Sam's, he kissed him hard and dirty, their teeth grinding together, his tongue practically fucking Sam's mouth. He only pulled back when he needed to breathe. "What could be hotter than a virgin with a dom kink?"

Sam gave a small chuckle before capturing Dean's lips again, not wanting it to end. Not yet. His eyes had darkened and his teeth ached, but he still felt in control at the moment. His hands wandered over Dean's back, as he held him, arms wrapped around him. One hand slid up to cup the back of Dean's head, Sam had to remind himself to pause and let Dean breathe. "Sorry.. forgot you need to do thatm" he smiled, his forehead against Dean's.

"Only if I want to live, don't worry about it," he let out a few harsh breaths and put his own arms around Sam. He didn't know how much time passed before he brushed his mouth over Sam's again. They stood there, barely kissing, barely moving, but emotions... electricity flooding between them. It was so unexpected, it took Dean's breath away. He licked Sam's lips, then lifted his face. "You practicing that Kama Sutra on me?"

Sam's lips curved into a grin, "What?" he chuckled, "No, why?"

"Cause this... we're hardly moving, and it's still hotter than hell." Just pressed up against him, he was so aware of Sam at this moment. Moving his mouth downwards, he buried his face in Sam's throat and breathed deeply. "I have a Sam scent kink," he groaned. "I don't think there's any help for that. No magazines, no group talks or sessions, I just gotta suffer."

Sam closed his eyes and bit his lip, smiling softly. "Yeah? Cookies, right?" he chuckled softly, "You have a scent too. But, it's not cookies. It draws me, it's like a drug and it makes me want things..." he licked his lips, "things I can't have."

"I can't really eat you either, so same here." Dean grinned. "Well, you won't let me anyway." Still, he didn't pull away, nor was he pushed away. "Will you?" There was always hope.

Sam gave a half huff, half whimper sound. "You don't know how much I'd like to..." he sighed, as he opened his eyes and bit his lip. "Unless there was some way to protect you, I..." he shook his head, "I'm not as strong as I used to be."

"Alright, you're off the hook." Dean nipped Sam's Adam's apple, then pushed away. If things got too heated, he'd just get frustrated and take it out on Sam, and there'd be a fight... or awkwardness. Rubbing his palm over his burning lips, he started to back away. "I'm getting a beer, you want... water?" Damn, it was hard having a vampire guest.

Sam stifled the moan that wanted to spill out as Dean nipped his Adam's apple, his eyes were dark as he watched him step away, his teeth were aching and the blood was starting to pound in his temples, so it was probably a good thing that Dean had moved away. At least that's what he told himself as he fought not to reach out and pull him back.

 

He licked his lips, "Hm? Wat-, uh, no. Thank you." The corner of his mouth quirked upward into a half smile, "What I drink," he huffed softly, shook his head, "I doubt you have. And what I _want_ , you shouldn't give me anyway."

"You don't wanna get drunk on me?" He shook his head. "Shame, you're really missing out." Before Sam had a chance to give him grief, Dean was down the stairs and breaking out a cold brew. 

Sam watched Dean climb the stairs, eyebrow quirked. "So, is that what you're doing? Getting drunk on me?" he smiled then frowned thoughtfully, "I don't know if vampire's can get drunk... IF we wanted to drink that disgusting stuff in the first place..." he shrugged, "Just for the record."

"Drunk on one beer? I don't think so." He'd been drinking since he was about fifteen. His dad had't been a stickler, plus he'd needed to be able to get into bars and pool halls and he really couldn't sit there and ask for a coke in the types of places he frequented. He pointed the bottle toward Sam, "you got homework to catch up on." It felt good to have the shoe on the other foot for once.

 

Sam shrugged, "I can do it tonight. It's not like I'm going to run out of time before tomorrow."

Dean laughed. "True. It's kind of unfair, you get to not only live forever, you don't have to waste time sleeping." Though he did like his sleep. 

Sam tilted his head to the side, "Unless you might want to," he licked his lips, the corner of his mouth quirking, being pretty damn sure Dean's thoughts were going in a totally different direction, "study with me?"

"Let me think about that one." A split second later, he added a firm, "No. Actually, I'm going out later." He looked at his watch and saw it was still too early to take off.

Sam had started to snicker, but stopped, "You are? Where?"

"Out." He sighed at the look on Sam's face. "I don't know exactly."

Sam quirked a brow, "What do you mean, you don't know?" Sam was getting more uncomfortable with this idea of Dean 'going out' as each moment passed, with each word Dean said. It didn't sound good, something was 'off' about it and he was pretty sure that once he got out of Dean exactly what was going on, he wasn't going to like it.

"Means I haven't decided exactly where yet. Haven't picked." He answered, taking a long pull of his drink and giving him a look that said 'don't be a pain about this.'

Sam eyed him for a moment, lips pressed together. Haven't picked? "Haven't picked what?"

Sighing, Dean answered. "I'm going to Seattle. Going to find myself a pool hall." His gaze shifted slightly toward the shelf where he'd put the city's notice to bring his house to code. He'd thought he could work on raising the money when school was out, but there was a time limit they’d put on him so it meant more trips out of Forks for something other than hunting. "You know, cruising around until I find the right one."

Sam's eyes widened, before he clenched his jaw and shook his head, "Like hell you are! No. I won't allow it. Do you _not_ remember what happened last time!? What if I hadn't been there!? What if..." his hands clenched into fists, "Hell no!" he practically roared.

"Sam," he cocked his head to the side, looking intently at him. "We've talked about this before. You're not my parent, and you can't change my life. I _have to_ do this, but I'll be careful. That time was a fluke. I don't know what I was thinking, letting my drink out of my sight. Believe me..." he pointed with the bottle, "not happening again. So don't you worry your pretty head about it, and go and get that homework done."

Sam was suddenly in Dean's face, looming over him, "If I have to lock you in a damn closet I will! You are not going!" he glared at him, "Why?... Why do you want to do this... chance this so bad anyway? To play a friggin game!?"

Sam's blurred only to appear right in front of him, startling Dean who instinctively put his hand up in self protection. "You're over reacting. One incident in one place doesn't mean it's dangerous. Hell, even if it is dangerous, it's what I do... alright? Daddy didn't leave me a trust fund, but don't you go feeling sorry or anything because it's how I like it. Now... ah, unless you plan on giving me some tongue action, get out of my personal space."

Sam grit his teeth, "How much do you need?"

"Don't need your money." Gripping Sam's shirt, he drew him down. "Only thing I need from you is this." Even as his mouth crushed against Sam's, he knew he was lying. It wasn't the _only_ thing he needed. 

Sam kissed him back as he slowly wrapped his arms around Dean. When they dew apart, Sam stared into Dean's face, shook his head slowly, "I don't want you to go. I can give you whatever you need. Let me."

"Sam. Stop." The town church, the people, and now Sam, all offering charity. He didn't know why, but it burned him up. Taking a breath, he moved away. "It's going to be just fine, like it always is. Believe me, it's not dangerous... hell, it's like a cakewalk compared to the vamp nest we walked into."

Sam watched Dean move away, "Then I'm going with you."

"You have homework." Dean pretty much gave up. It wouldn't kill him to have company, but it was best not to agree too quickly.

Sam crossed his arms over his chest, "I can do it when the rest of the world, including you, are tucked _safely_ in their beds."

"Okay mom, but you gotta promise not to interfere and you gotta practice your poker face. "You can't let them know they're being hustled because that... that would start a fight, though that can be fun." He grinned, thinking about the number of times he'd flown across a bar. 

Sam narrowed his eyes, "I promise not to," he paused, choosing his words carefully, "Not to do anything you don't _need_ me to."

 

* * *

Hours later, Dean pulled into his drive way with a very big smirk on his face. Despite Sam's initial endless complaints about the seedy joint he'd picked, and about how young he looked compared to the other patrons ... like Sam didn't look young himself... and the failure to enforce age restrictions, never mind that Dean had IDs for both of them, it had been a fun night. And hella lucrative. He'd have to remember the place, it was filled with chumps just dying to fork over their cash. 

Parking, he looked over at Sam. "I think you're luckier than a rabbit’s foot. Kinda wish I could put you on my key ring." 

 

Sam glanced from Dean's face down to his keys and back and quirked a brow. "You'd wind up with a bite where you don't want one." he muttered, reaching for his door handle.

"But think about the hotness of you trying to resist," he gave Sam a scorching look. 

Sam huffed as he opened the door, "And think of your shock when I couldn't."

"Nah... don't ruin the moment like that," Dean groaned, his knees coming together as he winced. Opening his own door, he climbed out. "See you upstairs, unless... you know, homework."

Without waiting, Dean headed inside and up the stairs. They already had a routine of Sam never doing the conventional thing of using the door, why change things now? 

Sam smiled slightly as he climbed out of the car, watching Dean walk into the house. Lucky Rabbits foot? No luck to it. Those men had been more than happy to take his money when he paid them all off to lose quickly to Dean. It wasn't a big deal, and he felt better knowing that there was no way they were going to give Dean a hard time or that Dean might lose his shirt. He had his precious money now, for whatever it was he needed it, and that was the whole point anyway.

 

Jumping up to Dean's window, Sam climbed inside, and leaned back against it, waiting for Dean to arrive, a small smirk on his face. "You're slow. Old age getting to you?"

"Sorry, God forgot to issue batwings to me." Giving his... the vampire a pointed look, he took his jacket off and tossed it onto a table. "You must look cute when you sleep... all hanging upside down."

Sam narrowed his eyes, "Yeah, very funny. Ha ha, human vampire humor, how droll." he muttered before rolling his eyes. He eyed Dean a moment, "Of course, if it were true, you might look good with bat wings."

Dean stripped his shirt off, looking over at Sam. "Is it the wings you like, or the Batman outfit? Tell the truth Sam, those tight clothes with no openings, the mask, gets to you doesn't it?" He was guessing, based on having thumbed through the magazine he got for Sam and seeing the types of items people liked to buy. "Does it get you hot thinking about that?" He unzipped and stepped out of his jeans.

The smirk fell away from Sam's face and he glared slightly. "Shut up." He didn't say anything else on the subject as his eyes raked over Dean, watching as slowly more and more of him, of his naked flesh, was revealed to his gaze. Sam licked his lips. "Are you doing that on purpose?" he nodded his head toward Dean, "Your little impromptu strip show?"

"It's bed time. You want to tuck me in?" His voice was heavy with suggestion. 

 

Sam's gaze shot to the bed and back to Dean, "I _want_ to get in it with you... but we both know _that's_ not an option. He licked his lips, "And you shouldn't tease a vampire. It could be detrimental to your blood levels."

"You don't have to be so fucking good all the time. Tuck me in Sam. Touch me once, I'll take over from there," he suggested, knowing... just knowing all Sam had to do was squeeze him once through the thin material of his boxers and he'd be rock hard. "You can stay and watch... I want you to watch, I don't want to have to imagine this time."

Sam bit his lip and slowly moved away from the window, walking toward Dean. "Get," Sam glanced at the bed and jutted his chin toward it, "get in bed, Dean," he told him, as he walked, hands curled into fists at his sides. He knew this was probably going to be a bad idea, probably going to end with him having to run away or give in to his dark temptations, but he couldn't seem to talk himself out of trying, just trying it.

Though his heart slammed against his chest, Dean didn't say a thing. He wasn't gonna get his hopes high, but he did what Sam told him. His eyes were laser focused on the vampire as he held his breath.

 

Sam waited until Dean had laid back on his bed before he went to him, bending over Dean, Sam braced a hand against the mattress next to Dean and lowered his mouth to Dean's as the fingers of his free hand ran though Dean's short soft hair. He kissed him softly, tenderly at first, but then, the kiss deepened, and he wasn't even sure who had been fool enough to do it. Only that he found himself nearly devouring Dean's lips, his mouth, his tongue.

Dean groaned at the slick penetration of his mouth, so hot and furious, so fucking possessive it made Dean burn all over. He wanted more. He wanted Sam's large hands all over him. He wanted to be manhandled, like he had been against the Impala. He wanted Sam almost out of control and fighting... fighting it for him. "Please..." His mouth moved against Sam's, opening for him again and taking his tongue deep.

The hand against the mattress moved, to Deans thigh, sliding slowly upward as they kissed until his hand was over Dean's cock, squeezing gently, rubbing the palm of his hand up and down his length through the cotton of his boxers.

His cock surged, thickening and aching so fucking bad under Sam's hand. A strangled cry broke from Dean as he raised his hips and rubbed himself harder against Sam's palm. Blasted by powerful need, he could barely think as he mindlessly moved and writhed, greedily taking everything Sam would give him.

 

Sam's teeth ached, his blood pounded in his temples. Visions of him biting into Dean's tongue and drinking from him there, even as he continued to kiss him ran through his mind. With a wounded sound, half whimper, half growl, Sam tore his mouth from Deans and took a step back, eyes coal black, lids heavy with desire. He shook his head, "A vampire's passion is all consuming, I can't... I want so many things from you right now..."

The loss of pressure left Dean hard and aching beyond reason. Tears of frustration pricked his eyes, even as he locked gazes with Sam's and saw they'd gone pitch black. Dammit he needed him... needed him so much. Replacing Sam's hand with his own, he leaned his head back, looked at Sam under his lashes and pretending it was still his hand on him... squeezing... stroking. It wasn't enough.

Licking his lips, he quickly pushed his shorts down, kicking them down and off. His erection now visible to Sam, he wrapped his fingers around himself. "Tell me how I feel." He started to stroke up and down, a groan erupting from the back of his throat at the look in Sam's eyes.

Dark eyes watched as Dean removed his boxers, a strangled gasp leaving him as his eyes devoured Dean, the sight of is cock, full and arching upward, curving toward his hard flat abs, the look in his brilliant green eyes. _Holy fuck!_ Dean may have just discovered how to kill his kind of vampire.

 

Licking his lips, Sam's hands clenched and unclenched into fists at his sides, before one hand slowly moved to his own erection, squeezing himself as he watched Dean.

 

Sam drew in a breath through his teeth, "You feel..." he paused fighting against the desire to pounce on Dean, to take him, possess him in every way possible. Fuck him, drink him dry, and not necessarily in that order. "Hard, hot, aching," he groaned, "wanting..." his eyes slid closed as his head tilted back for a moment, before he lowered it again, inky black eyes opening. His teeth ached so bad it was maddening, the blood pounding in his temples seemed to match the rhythm of Dean's pounding heart, or maybe he just imagined it did.

 

"I can feel you... like you're touching me. It's distant, I know the feeling isn't mine, but I can feel it." Sam groaned, taking another step back and another until he hit the wall, eyes locked on Dean, shifting from his hand on his cock to his face and back, over and over again.

"It hurts Sammy. I'm so hard, it hurts." He watched Sam's hand move and his eyes swept up to catch his reactions. He'd never seen Sam touch himself. Holy fuck... just when he'd thought it couldn't get hotter, white hot heat was inching through his veins. "Want your hands on me... all over. Want you to..." he squeezed himself hard, biting his lip as his hips practically came off the mattress. "Need you so bad... any way I can get you." 

He took a couple labored breaths. "Please touch me again. Please Sam. Once more... fucking come here and touch me."

Sam was panting out his breaths, his head leaning back against the wall, watching Dean from under his lashes, his free hand, was no longer curled into a fist at his side, but gripping a shelf of the bookcase next to him, as if it would anchor him to the spot and keep him from going to Dean and doing the unthinkable.

 

His teeth, the sound of his blood pounding in his temples, the sound of Dean's blood rushing through his veins, his heartbeat, and Dean begging him to touch him, had Sam gripping the book case shelf tighter. The wood crumbled in his hand, books falling to the floor, before the entire thing started to collapse.

 

Taking a heavy step forward, toward Dean, his body telling him to go, to try. That he could stop, just one little sip. He had always been able to resist before, resist blood. It had been something that his family was in awe of. His ability to resist... all but Dean's. He was never good at resisting Dean’s blood, not even long ago. With a wounded groan, Sam changed directions and headed for the window. He had to get out of there, he couldn't stay. He couldn't allow the over powering, over-whelming need he was feeling to take over, no matter how badly it made him ache.

Dean's hopes were pulverized when instead of reaching him, Sam reversed himself and jumped out. "NO! No," he shouted. "Don't you leave me, Sam... don't you fucking leave." He bit his lip and repeated the phrase even as he stroked himself, because he couldnt' help it, because he was still so fucking hard and needed to come. "Don't leave," he said, his voice broken.

 

Jumping out the window, Sam rushed to his car and inside, slamming the door closed after himself. He sat there a moment, trying to regain control, before pulling out his cell and calling Dean. When the phone picked up, Sam gave a strangled sigh, as he reached down and let his seat fall back. "I didn't leave."

Eyes swinging to the window, Dean saw nothing. "Where are you... I don't see you," his breaths were heavy and labored as he kept stroking. "Need you here, dammit. Can't you do this for me? Fight it?"


	10. Chapter 10

Sam groaned, biting his lip. "I _am_ fighting it, it's the only reason why you aren't bloodless right now. And," he grunted as he moved to unfasten his jeans and push them down slightly, along with his boxers freeing his cock so he could wrap his hand around it. "I'm in my car. I'm gonna put you on speaker so I have my hands free." He pulled the phone from his ear and hit the speaker button, then tossed the cell into the seat next to him as he started to stroke himself. "Can you hear me?" he asked moaning softly.

About to argue, the sound of Sam's moan almost undid him. His stomach clenched as he replayed the sound in his mind, imagining what Sam was doing with his free hand. "I hear you." He couldn't say anymore for a couple of minutes as he listened hard to the sounds Sam made. "Sam... I'm in the car with you, alright? We're both horny... so fucking horny, we can't wait. I don't know how, but you straddle me, and push my chair back. You're heavy on top of me and I feel your cock... I feel it pressing into my hip, throbbing and out of control. I feel you rubbing against me, so fucking hard I'm being pressed into the chair... but I don't care, I want more."

Sam swallowed, as he moved his hand faster, squeezing his eyes closed, "Oh my God..." he nodded, "I... you're naked under me and I can't get enough of the feel of you. My hands run over you, my mouth following after them, kissing, licking, biting... softly." He took a breath, "I grab your wrists and pin your arms over your head as I thrust against you, sliding against you, seeking the friction we want, need. We're both so fucking hard...I kiss you then, practically devour your mouth, I want to feel you from the inside out. You're so warm and you smell so... oh my God, your scent... I'm dizzy with your scent, the sound of your blood. I refrain from taking, but just barely, and it hurts, oh God it hurts."

"Hurts good," Dean groaned. "Hurts so damned good. I need more, so lift my hips up and we're going at it hard. I try to get my hands free... I want to touch you all over, I want to grab your ass... feel you clenching each time you thrust against me, but you won't let me go, will you Sam? Because we're the same... I like it... I like knowing how much you need my blood but can't take it, and you like knowing I need to touch you...but you can stop me." Dean squeezed his eyes shut as he stroked his shaft in earnest, hot breaths coming quicker and quicker. "I can't take anymore. Fuck me. Fuck me Sam. Shove your big thick cock into me right now, do it. I can take it, I can take you."

Sam gasped, a groaned whimper leaving him as he stroked his shaft faster, desperately. His head turning toward the cell, eyes still closed. He licked his lips, breaths panting out, "I - I, oh God I want to, but I'm so scared of hurting you, I try to be gentle to not hurt you, but, I can't control myself and I'm thrusting into you so hard so fast that I'm begging you to forgive me, to tell me to stop, to go away. But, you don't do you? You fucking don't and I don't have the strength to force myself to stop, not when your squeezing me, surrounding me... and it feels so good, Dean. So fucking good that I'm mindless with the sensations. My mouth is crushed to yours, and my tongue is copying what my dick is doing, thrusting in and out of you. I'm holding onto you hard, I know I'm bruising your skin, but I don't care anymore. I just have to do this, have to possess you. Oh God..."

"I've never been fucked, and it hurts... it hurts, but I won't tell you to stop because it's a good pain. You're inside me. I clench around your cock, want to feel your every move. I like how you're begging me... even when you won't let my arms go, it gives me a little control... and I use it. I push you... I make you give it to me harder and make you beg me to force you to stop. We're fucked up... both of us, so fucked up, but I don't care. Nothing's ever felt this right."

Sam moaned low, as his hips bucked up off the seat, pushing his cock into his fisted hand. His breaths heavy, small near whimpers leaving him as he imagined everything Dean was saying, everything he had been saying. He could feel Dean's hand on Dean's own dick, it was like a mirror image of Sam's own on his own dick. As if together they were working his cock. Sam moved his free hand, reaching up to grab the 'oh shit' handle above the car door, knuckles turning whiter than his pale complexion normally made them as he held on, grit his teeth., neck arched.

Dean arched up off the mattress, fucking his fist until his cock was almost raw. "You pull out and I get angry. You're leaving me again... you can't do this to me... but then you slam inside me so hard I'm seeing white... fuck ..." As they both groaned at the same time, he almost convinced himself this was real. That Sam's breaths were fanning his face. That their lips were crushing together hard enough to leave him swollen and bruised. That Sam's stomach was rubbing hard against is own cock as he was fucked, driving him closer to the edge.

"Ride me harder... harder...f- uck... coming," he banged his head against the wall and squeezed his cock. "Come with me... let me hear you... I wanna hear you," he demanded, struggling to hold back.

Sam's hips moved with his hand, fucking hard into his fist as he nodded his head, lips parted breaths panting out, unable to answer. With a strangled growl, his back arched upward off the seat, as he gasped, "Dean, I'm coming. I'm coming in you!" he told him urgently, as he started to come, his spunk coating his hand, "Fuck! Oh my God!" Sam's eyes opened as he looked down at himself, breaths panting out, chest rising and falling rapidly.

Every word wrung form Sam did things to Dean's insides, ratcheted him tighter, drove him to the brink of madness. "Yeah, fuck yeah," he nodded, his face contorting as a shout welled up in the back of his throat. "Sam! Oh God, Sam!" he shouted, knowing just what it would feel like to be filled with Sam, with his cum, knowing what it would be like to come all over his stomach and chest, know how hard they'd be breathing as they hung on to each other and rode the waves of pleasure together until his heart rate slowed. 

His forehead was damp, like he'd been running for miles. He tasted the salt of his own sweat on his lips, licking them. Chest rising and falling, he clenched his fingers around the sheets, struggling to find himself again. It took a while... much longer than anytime before but this had been intense. There had been the visuals and the real touching... and he didn't know if he could ever let Sam backslide into giving him less than at least this.

"Felt so real... I wish," Dean bit down on his tongue. No, he wasn't gonna ruin the moment. It had been too good. He swallowed hard. "Your car seat breaks. And Sam, I'm happy... happy because for once, you broke something of your own." Yeah, his eyes went to the now destroyed bookshelf for a second, but he couldn't muster up any anger at all.

Sam chuckled, still panting as his hand slipped slowly from the handle above the car door to land on his chest. "And I collapse onto you..." he snickered, "And I'm heavy as shit, so we're even about my seat." He ran his hand over his face before reaching for the phone and bringing it to his ear, cutting off the speaker. "Dean? That was..." he shook his head, "I don't even know what to say. Do..." he licked his lips, "Do, you want me to come back up?" he looked up at Dean's bedroom window and bit his lip.

"Hell yeah... that's what I want." He practically held his breath, eyes glued to the window as he waited. Then he was there... Sam, with his shirt untucked and wrinkled, like he'd never seen him before. 

Dean forced a smile. "You're like a wet dream come true." Again there was silence. He checked Sam's eyes and found them surprisingly green. "Do you think you could... you wanna sleep with me?" Already he had wiped himself clean and was making room for Sam.

Sam looked from Dean down to the bed and took a leaden step forward, as his gaze returned to Dean's face, "As I said," he shook his head, "Don't sleep." He licked his lips as he stepped over to the side of Dean's bed, "But, I think I can lay with you for a while. I'm feeling pretty relaxed for once."

Raising his arms, Dean stretched like a cat, a sheet partially cloaking his hips. "If THAT didn't relax you, I don't know what could." He felt Sam's weight on the bed, then immediately rolled part way over him. There were emotions welling up in his heart he didn't understand or and had no idea of how to give voice to them. Slightly confused, he just kissed Sam lightly, then put his head down on his chest, his arms pressed against Sam's sides. 

Sam licked his lips as he laid down beside Dean, still careful not to touch too much, always worried that he might do something to hurt him, even now when he didn't feel all that dangerous. Then again, he was laying with Dean, with his scent enveloping him, the sound of his blood running through his veins close by. 

He looked down, feeling Dean place a soft kiss against his chest, before laying his head down and Sam moved his arms, wrapping them around Dean loosely. "If you start squirming, I'll break your night stand just to get even," He teased him, as he tried to relax completely with Dean in his arms.

"Don't worry... you wore me out with _nonsex_. That's a first," a low rumbling laughter came from him. A strange urge to lift his head up and kiss him again welled up inside him, but Dean resisted. That would be the surest way to have Sam shooting out that window. "I really needed that." His fingers dug into Sam's sides, but he forced his eyes shut and sank into a happy, relaxed state. 

Sam brushed his lips against Dean's hair, kissing him softly, but remained silent. Turning his head, he stared at the window, reminding himself that if he couldn't take it, the window was right there, that it was no different from the night he had stayed with Dean after... yeah, better he not finish that thought. 

* * *

When Dean woke to the alarm, he smelled Sam all over him, all over his pillows... even thought he could feel his strong arms around him, his hand stroking his head, making him want to purr like a damned cat. But there was no sign of him. Choking down his disappointment, Dean padded to the bathroom. It had been real. Last night had been, it wasn't just a dream... it couldn't be. 

By the time he had his teeth brushed and had showered and shaved, the last remnants of sleep left him and he knew remembered everything. Whistling, he walked into his room, coming to a sudden standstill at the sight of Sam bearing coffee. A little embarrassed at getting caught too damned happy, he strode straight to Sam and took it from him. "Did you... stay all night?"

Sam was smiling at him, but he didn't say anything, nodding to Dean's question, he watched as Dean took a sip of his coffee. "I left to get you breakfast... and coffee." he shrugged, "Needed clean clothes too." He tilted his head, "I wasn't gone that long, was I? You thought I just up and left," he nodded, looking at the floor as he pressed his lips together. The last wasn't a question, but a statement of fact, he knew that was what Dean thought. After all of his disappearing acts, he couldn't very well blame him.

"It's a first," Dean nodded, leaning in and kissing the corner of Sam's mouth before grabbing the bag of food and heading over to sit on the side of the bed. "I didn't... ah... say anything?" He tried not to look at Sam as he unwrapped the sausage biscuit.

Sam quirked a brow, "No... why? Were you supposed to?"

"No... course not." He pushed as much of the sandwich into his mouth as he could before looking up. He'd been told he talked in his sleep especially after sex, and they might not have had any... but that sure had felt like they had it. 

Sam frowned slightly before licking his lips, the corner of his lips quirking up, "You _did_ sort of purr a little, but no words really."

"Oh. Okay." Only half relieved, he ate the rest of his sandwich in peace. Then they were ready to go so he picked up his back pack, and wordlessly walked down the stairs. The moment he opened the front door, Sam landed in front of him. "Stairs aren't that bad for you," he said, not real sure what came next. Right... he'd get into his car, and Sam into his flashy Camaro. Taking a sip of the still hot coffee, he started to walk.

"Ride with me?" Sam suggested, as he fished his keys out of his pocket, pressing the unlock remote, making the car chirp. He turned to face Dean, stopping in front of him, "Please?" he leaned in laying his forehead against Dean's, "If you say no, I'll hold onto the bumper of your car until you finally agree." he smirked.

"Sam," he growled at the thought of his car being brutalized again, though all his ready complaints completely flew out of his brain when he registered how close Sam was, and that a simple tilt of his face would have them mouth to mouth instead of with their foreheads touching. "I don't like being driven around. Why don't you come with me?" He placed his palm on Sam's cheek and moved his thumb back and forth across his tantalizing mouth.

Sam sighed, "You make a shitty _Sub_." He chuckled softly and reached for Dean's hand as he turned to lead them to Dean's car, pushing the lock on his remote again. "Can I drive?" he grinned, knowing Dean would rather slit his wrists.

"Ah... been reading while I was asleep, huh?" Grinning at Sam’s easy use of the word ‘sub’, he gave Sam a one word answer to his question. "No."

It was weird. They were holding hands and they were outside, and he didn't give a damn. Squeezing Sam's hand, he walked around to the driver's side and looked at him over the roof.

Sam stopped in mid motion as he started to open the car door, gaze locked with Dean, a small grin still tugging at his lips, "What?"

"Nothing." Coughing into his hand, Dean dragged his gaze away, opened the door and got inside. "Let's rock and roll."

Sam quirked a brow and shook his head, grin still firmly in place, as he opened the car door and folded his tall frame inside, closing the door after himself.

Looking over at Dean, Sam bit his lip and leaned toward him, reaching out to place a hand gently against his cheek. Sam slanted his mouth over Dean's kissing him softly, tongue running over Dean's bottom lip before he drew back. He let out a breath and nodded, "That went well. Getting better at this," he said, clearing his throat as he tore his gaze from Dean, letting his hand fall and looking out the window.

Darting his tongue out to taste Sam on his lips, Dean wanted to ask if that meant Sam thought one day they could... But he didn't. Instinctively, he knew their good mood would be broken, and he didn't want that. "If you were any better at it, Sam, I'd be on top of you right now and nothing you said would stop me." Smirking because it was true that this was how Sam made him feel, but also knowing he couldn't impose his will on Sam even if he wanted to, he started the car and backed out onto the street. 

Sam bit his lip, making himself not look back at Dean, if he did, he might just tell him they could try, and that would ruin everything, because as much as he wanted to believe otherwise, as much as he wanted to believe it was like Carlisle and blood, that he could make himself immune to wanting Dean's blood, he knew it was a lie, a dream, but it was a dream he wanted to believe in... at least in his own head... for a little while.

As Dean parked, Sam spotted his brothers and sisters standing in front of Emmett's jeep like some sort of united front against an enemy he didn't see. Sam quirked a brow as he reached for the door handle, "Looks like my brothers and sisters aren't really happy," he muttered as he slid from the seat, pulling to his full height outside the door.

Closing the car door, he looked over at Dean across the roof, "Don't let them get to you. I still need to talk to them, okay? And, try to remember that they love me." He offered a faint hopeful smile that Dean wouldn't go off into one of his bad moods.

Both arms on the roof, Dean's gaze went from the Cullens to Sam. "Remember when you said I was a 'pain in your ass?'" He waited for the nod that came. "Well they're a pain in mine. But today... it's good, it's all good." Closing his door, he walked around the car with his bag slung over one shoulder. "I mean... those looks... must mean Blondie can smell you all over me, right?" He'd said it loud enough for them to hear.

Sam walked up beside Dean and almost put his arm around him. Almost. "Dean, you don't have to say..." he sighed, "Ros and I don't..." he shook his head. He was so not getting into that again.

Dean just gave a grumpy grunt.

Sam looked at Alice who suddenly appeared at his side, her gaze steadily on Dean, even as she spoke to Sam, "Here's your homework. I didn't want you to be behind."

Sam took the binder from her and nodded, "Thanks, Alice." He was smiling, something he didn't do very often anymore, so he wasn't sure if that was where the odd looks were coming from, or if maybe it really was that they all knew... and weren't happy about it.

Dean stared back at her, refusing to be intimidated. "Yeah, thanks Alice. He had more fun things to do than homework." He glanced over at Sam. "Must be nice to have someone who'll do it for you."

Sam looked over at Dean, even as he felt more than saw, Alice stop walking with them and shrugged, "Do you _know_ how many times I've been in high school and graduated already?" he made a face and shook his head.

"How many? Three? Five? More?" His mind boggled at being stuck in high school for all time. "Dude... haven't you heard of the high school equivalency exam?" Laughing at his 'too smart' but also naive boy... well friend... right? Okay, he had to stop thinking like Sam. As he'd told him over and over... Taking a deep breath, he lost his train of mind and looked behind him. "They're still watching. And freaking me out."

Sam looked over his shoulder at his brothers and sisters and grinned as he looked back at Dean, "Never seen them look like that. Guess they _really_ don't like you." 

"Really? They don't like me? Awww... that hurts Sam, hurts like a sonovabitch." His expression showed he couldn't care less. 

Sam shook his head, rolling his eyes. He knew it wasn't that they didn't like Dean, but they had to pick on him. He'd talk to Alice later and find out what was going on. Right now, he didn't want this to end, they were actually getting along, not fighting, arguing, and it was nice. Very nice.

Having different classes for first period, Sam looked at Dean, unsure what he should do, how far he should take this since they weren't alone. "I, uh, I'll see you in physics, I guess," he offered him a small smile. He leaned in, his mouth near Dean's ear. "I'm kissing you goodbye, now. Pushing you against the wall and pinning you there. I'm fucking your mouth with my tongue, nibbling on your bottom lip before I pull away. My eyes are darker already, just thinking about what I want to do later, just having tasted your lips, your mouth." He pulled his head back and gave a small nod, clearing his throat. "Well, until physics," he muttered before turning to walk away.

Mouth hanging open, Dean stared at Sam's back as his imagination went into overdrive. His entire body reacted as if Sam was kissing him right now, his heart rate kicking up a notch, his cock twitching, and even his breaths coming fast and shallow. A hard clap on his shoulder had him turning.'

"Dude... class?" Jackson grinned, and walked past him backwards and put his hand in front of his chest, like he was grabbing a set of breasts. As Dean's confusion cleared, he realized he'd been looking in the direction of a girl famous for her rack, and for showing it off. He hadn't even notice. Giving a weak smile, he followed. 

* * *

Emmett and Rosalie walked into the cafeteria first, followed by Jasper and Alice. Sam entered a few moments later, for the first time since being freed, he wasn't walking in the middle of his brothers and sisters, but trailing behind at his own pace. Another step forward. Progress. Today had been a very good day. Even in physic's class he and Dean had sat near one another and talked, carrying on friendly banter, teasing one another silently as the teacher lectured and grinning at each others antics. Yeah, today had been better than anything Sam could have hoped for.

He'd had a chance to talk to Alice and find out that they were all just worried about him, not wanting Dean to hurt him... as much as he wanted to reassure her, he couldn't. There was no telling if or when Dean would go back to being stand off-ish. He hoped that he wouldn't, he hoped that somehow, things had really changed between them, but he didn't know that, not for sure. After all, it wasn't like Dean had _said_ anything to him. He hadn't said he had feelings or anything more than he had before. A kiss meant nothing... Sam had to keep reminding himself that’s how Dean thought.

Inside the cafeteria, Sam's gaze fell on Dean right away as he stood in line to get food. The corner of his mouth quirked upward as he walked toward him, stopping just behind him. Sam leaned down, his mouth next to Dean's ear, "I hear cookies are better."

"If you're selling, I'm buying." Every cell in Dean's body was aware of Sam, and that was before he drew in his irresistible scent. "Sides, I've been hungry for them since some jerk talked about pushing me against the wall and..." he let his tongue dart out. "So yeah... I'm _up_ for cookies anytime."

Sam moaned softly in Dean's ear, "You better stop. Don't want me to have to run out of here and go feed do you?" he pulled his head back and licked his lips as he grabbed a tray and started to fill it with food he wouldn't eat. "So, you have plans for after school?"

"I didn't start it," Dean grinned, glad Sam was as affected as he'd been. Hell, he'd spent the first period just thinking about it. "I ah, gotta take care of some stuff ... house shit, but no. Nothing other than homework." He loaded his tray up, and when they got to the cashier, paid for both of them. There was that awkward moment again... not knowing whether they were gonna sit together or go to their corners.

Sam nodded toward an empty table, "Unless you wanna sit with your friends..." he headed over to the empty table before Dean could answer, speaking over his shoulder. "I was going to ask you if you wanted to play football," Sam shrugged, "It's supposed to storm and well, my family picks those days to play different sports. Tonight, it's football."

Without any further hesitation, Dean followed and set his tray down, he gaze meeting Sam's. "With _them_? Yeah like that'll be loads of fun. I think I'll pass. Why don't you come over after, and we can play some other kind of ball games."

Sam quirked a brow at him, still grinning. "Always pushing just a little further, aren't you?" he shook his head, glancing at his family, who were trying to not look like they were watching, before he looked back at Dean, "Oh, they're harmless. They just worry about me." He nudged him with his elbow as he started to pick apart his burger for something to do. "Come on, it'll be fun. We'll go easy on you. I'll make sure they do."

"I don't need anyone going easy on me," he shot back, practically glaring at the Cullen table. By the time he looked back into Sam's eyes, he knew he'd been bamboozled, but what the hell. "Where? Park or at school?" He wasn't really pleased but he could tell Sam really wanted this for some reason.

"We play in a clearing near our house. I'll take you.” Having torn his burger to shreds, Sam sighed and leaned back in his chair, watching Dean. Yeah, today had been a really good day.

Dean gave a nod, chewing the large mouthful of food and swallowing, then dipping his finger into the ketchup and slowly licking it off. "Do you always waste your food," he asked, dipping again, then looking up with his finger hovering close to his mouth.

Sam's gaze had been riveted on the sight of Dean licking the ketchup off his finger, his complete attention focused on _that_ action. He blinked and looked Dean in the eyes, "Huh? I'm sorry? What?"

"Never mind." This time after he licked his index finger, he pushed his thumb inside and made a sound as he pulled it out. "Can I have your fries?" The silence surprised him. "You alright?"

Sam had his teeth clenched together as he watched Dean's mouth, his finger. Visions of the porno Ros and Alice showed him floated through his mind, his muscles tensed as he sat there, willing his reactions away. He continued to fight the hunger starting to bubble up inside him. Slowly he dragged his eyes back to Dean's. His were no longer golden hazel, but darker, nearly black. "Lion.. feeding time at the zoo." He tried to give a small smile, lips pressed firmly together.

"Huh?" Dean glanced at the Cullens to see if something was up at that table, and when he looked back into dark, hungry eyes, he stilled. "You?" He took a light breath. "I'd say you're more black panther than lion. Dark and sleek, lean but strong, hard but soft in the right places," he smiled. "And sexy sharp fangs. Gimme a smile, Sammy, lemme see," he cocked his head, trying to tease him into normality.

Sam quirked a brow, dark eyes darting around the room, before landing back on Dean. "I'll show you anything you want," he shook his head, "but not here. And it's not good to tease a panther any more than it is a lion." he swallowed, sitting up. "Tissue paper full of pie, remember?"

"Tease, what are you talking about?" Dean licked his finger one last time, eyes widening when Sam got up. "Sam? Sam... what the fuck..." Bemused, he watched as Sam practically raced away from the table. "Guess that's 'yes' on the fries..."

* * *

After waiting a while for Sam to show up after class, Dean had gotten in his car and driven away. He wasn't sure what to think, and didn't know if they were still on for this football game with the 'family.' When he reached home, he saw Sam's car was gone. Okay, that probably meant he wasn't upstairs. Slightly disappointed, he walked inside. About an hour later, he'd propped his lap top on his legs on the bed and was scouring the net for possible connections between the people he thought had manufactured the chains that held Sam, and the facility where he'd been held. He would follow up on the people he'd interviewed at the bondage club too, the owner of the place was a partner in the company that made not only those chains, but cuffs, and other items that could be viewed as being 'for play,' but Dean didn't buy that their toys were only for play. Who needed to use materials that couldn't be broken by a vampire of Sam's type?

*

After school, Sam had been ambushed by his brothers and sisters demanding to know what was going on. So, he'd gone with them, explaining what had happened and how things were going. Alice had been the most receptive of his siblings..

Having changed into tight white football pants that came to his knees and a net red football jersey with the CULLEN name written across the top of the back, the number 26 across the front and back, the material nearly see-through with all the tiny holes and the pants showing off all Sam's assets, Sam arrived at Dean's house and climbed in the window. "You don't look ready to go," Sam stated as he looked at Dean,"We're still on, aren't we?"

Dean's head snapped up at the sound. Sam had official football clothes? The idea made him smile, and the fact that it was see-thru... bonus. "I guess we are... did you check the weather?" Glancing down, he cleared the screen, and set the lap top onto the nightstand. He pulled a shirt on over his tee and grabbed a jacket. No fancy football clothes for him, but that didn't mean he wasn't about to kick some Cullen ass.

Sam shrugged, "Alice says a storm is coming, but we won't get rained on. It'll be fine." He smiled and started to turn back toward the window only to pause, "You want to?" he pointed at the window, "You can hold onto me."

"What would the neighbors think?" Dean cocked his head and gave a 'like I give a shit' look. "Nah, I'd feel silly getting a ride down from a second story. Might be human but I do know how to climb." He walked up to Sam and looked him up and down and shook his head. "That top... very provocative, sport." Smacking Sam's ass he headed for the stairs, a big grin on his face.

Sam quirked a brow and looked down at his shirt, before watching Dean descend the stairs. Turning, he leaped out the window, using his TK to close and lock it behind him. Landing on the ground just as Dean opened the door, Sam grinned at him, "It's faster. And you could have gotten to ride me.... uh, I mean on me... I mean..." 

"Yeah well if I _rode_ you, Sam... we wouldn't make it to this game of yours and then there'd be four nosey vamps pressing their faces against my window." Giving him a look, he opened the car door, and got inside. Without waiting for directions to the Cullen house, he took off. He'd done his homework. 

Sam frowned and looked over at Dean as they drove, "You know where I live?" he grinned, "Been checking up on me?"

"You knew where I lived, checking on me?" He gave Sam a sidelong glance. "What? You're in a damned good mood today."

Sam quirked a brow, "I knew where you lived from the tutoring." He shrugged, "Besides, I would have figured it out anyway." He eyed Dean, "Problem with being in a good mood? You're not your usual grumpy self either..."

"Who's grumpy?" Dean was genuinely shocked by the accusation. "Sam, you haven't seen me grumpy." He muttered under his breath about vamps on drugs, and with relatives who could make a saint grumpy, as he turned the car into a long lonely drive up the mountainside toward the Cullen residence.

Sam didn't say anything else, only frowned slightly, before returning his attention to where they were going. He directed Dean to turn off on a dirt path leading back a few yards behind his house which opened up into a clearing. All of Sam's brothers and sisters stood there, tossing a football back and forth, all dressed in similar outfits as Sam, Carlisle and Esme with them.

Sam pointed to a spot near the tree line, "You might want to park over here, keep the car out of the danger area," he grinned at him, "so we don't break a window." He licked his lips as his gaze traveled over Dean's face "I would have taken you to the house, but then we would have had to hike it here, and well... you're human..." he shrugged as he reached for the car's door handle, "You would have taken too long."

"Ass." Yup. the closer they got to vamp territory, the more he should expect these jokes about humans. He parked behind two trees, just in case Sam wasn't kidding about his precious windows. From Sam's smirk, he could tell the guy knew what he was thinking. "Well if the rest of them are as into breaking my things as you are... I can't take that chance. Let's play ball." He wasn't a jock or anything, he never had enough time to try out for the football team or anything like that, but he enjoyed playing and watching football on t.v.

Sam smirked as he turned and headed toward his family who had all looked over at them. His father nodded to them both, a friendly smile on his face for Dean, his mother the same, however his siblings weren't quite as welcoming.

"He actually showed, huh?" Emmett asked him and Sam narrowed his eyes.

"Just remember what I told you. Go easy on him." Sam remarked, giving all of them a pointed look.

Dean made a face, not thrilled that Sam thought he needed to be defended, and even less thrilled that yeah... he probably did need to be defended, if all of them acted at once. 

Esme and Carlisle were very welcoming as they introduced themselves. It had to be his own prejudices, but Dean couldn't help feeling like he was being evaluated the way a carnivore would look at a thick, juicy steak. There were also a lot of looks aimed at Sam. Just what the hell did these people think he was going to do to Sam? 

Sam grabbed the football away from his brother and started running away with it, Emmett chasing after him. "Jasper! Go long!" Sam yelled before throwing the ball hard up and over Emmett's head to Jasper, who jumped up and caught it easily, just as Emmett tackled Sam to the ground, the two colliding with a loud bam and thud as they hit the ground.

Esme, tore her gaze away from the boys to look back at Dean, smiling kindly, "Ignore them, they always do that before we get officially going." She looked back, following Dean gaze to Sam and smiled, "He's something, isn't he?"

"We thought we had lost him there for a while." She shook her head, looking down, "Never thought they'd get him again once he was with us," she looked up at Dean, tried to smile for him.

Seeing as she didn't look much older than Sam or his siblings, Dean had trouble thinking of her as Sam's mother, until she talked about him. The way her eyes softened when she looked at him, and the love that was there in her voice... but not in the raving lunatic way that her other kids showed their protectiveness of Sam. He licked his lips and didn't know whether to say anything.

His gaze swept the clearing as he watched the others practice... man, the speeds at which they threw the ball... it was a wonder they weren't breaking the damned sound barrier. And the way the smashed into each other, it was almost as loud as cars colliding. Yeah, he'd better not get caught between any two of them.

When he looked back, she still had her eyes on him. "His blood, it's special. Priceless. People will kill or do whatever is necessary to get at it... like they would if there were a 'fountain of youth.' As long as one person out there knows about him, he's not safe." But he would be. Dean would find them, and then Sam would be safe from them.

"You'd think that a family of vampires that love him, protect him could have kept him safe from them." Esme shook her head as she looked back out at the kids, watching as they all tumbled and rolled on the ground together, laughing. "He used to be far too trusting, you know? That's how it happened. They tricked him into thinking they needed help. Needed a healing. That's when they grabbed him. I think a piece of his innocence died that night." She offered Dean a faint smile as she blinked away the memory.

"Five years is a long time," Dean nodded, hands clenching into fists. He disagreed that Sam's innocence was gone. It was still glaringly there, only there were a lot of dark moments too. Sometimes it was like he had two personalities, the closed and angry Sam versus the innocent easy going one. "I'll talk to him. Next time anyone needs a healing, he should walk the other way or call a doctor." 

Esme glanced back at Dean, about to say more, but Carlisle was calling them all over to pick teams.

"You two have to be separated as always, or the rest of us might as well just give in now." Carlisle pointed at Sam and Emmett, who grinned at one another, before looking back at him.

Carlisle pointed to each of them in turn, "Rosalie, you're with Emmett, Alice, with Sam..." he turned and looked back at Dean, "Dean, you go with Sam's team," he looked back at Jasper, "And Jasper, you go with Emmett."

Emmett chuckled, "This'll be easy. Sam and Alice against all of us. Oh, and the human."

Rosalie laughed, clinging to Emmett's arm.

Esme walked up, smiling, "I'll be on Sam's team too then." she told them, her eyes meeting Dean's, "Carlisle referees."

Sam stepped over to stand beside, Dean. "With him, it's touch, not tackle."

Emmett groaned, "Touch football? What the hell fun is that?"

"Not with the rest of us, just Dean." he grinned at Emmett, "I wouldn't miss the chance to kick your ass."

Emmett, laughed and nodded, pointing at Sam, "You're on!"

For the next hour, Dean ran like he never had before. It didn't get him far, not with this bunch. And they did like to make their jokes about humans, so he'd been compared to snails and slugs. When he did get the ball, it was usually from Sam or Alice and he didn't keep it very long because he either freakin' got 'touched' or had to pass it before he was nailed. At first he was grumbling most of the time under his breath, but at some point, almost without realizing it, he started to enjoy himself. He usually liked to be at the center of things, and he definitely wasn't now. But watching the others was fascinating. The way the earth shook when they tackled each other, or the way they jumped and collided maybe at the height of a second story building before landing on the ground was mesmerizing in the same way as cars smashing into each other at a demolition derby. Then there was that interesting hip shaking move of Sam's whenever he made a touchdown. Yeah, sure Emmett had the same move but it wasn't half as interesting. Dean's one moment of glory was when he'd screamed out 'oh my God, what happened to Sam,' and had every last one of the protective Cullens turn to see if the vampire was injured. He hadn't made it to a touch down, cause they caught on fast, but he loved the grumbling and answered the accusations of cheating with his having to even the odds. Wiping his brow, he moved to the sidelines, wishing he had a cold brew. 

Esme jogged Dean's way, stopping next to him, "You doing alright? We're not boring you are we?" she asked him pulling a bottle from a cloth bag and bringing it over to him. "I brought you some water," she told him almost nervously.

Sam ran over, skidding to a halt before Dean. "Hey! What's up?" 

Behind them, the other Cullens were slowly walking their way, the game was over and they were all smiling. Carlisle hadn't kept a real score, mostly due to not wanting to hear arguments of who was the better team later.

"You did good out there, Dean." Alice offered as she walked up and wrapped an arm around Sam's waist.

"Uh huh," lifting the bottle up, he drank about half of it, before pouring some on his face to cool off, then wiping it off with his hand. "Thanks," he nodded at Esme. He'd just played with a bunch of all American football playing vampires... his dad would be rolling in his grave. His mom too. Right... and grandparents. "How many balls did we go through?"

"Eight." Carlislie answered him as he walked up, "I think that's the best we've ever done."

Sam grinned and slapped Emmett on the shoulder as he walked up, "We were going easy on Dean," he joked and Emmett nodded, his gaze going to Dean for a second before he looked away and pulled his arm from around Rosalie.

He held out his hand to Dean then, "Good game, man. You didn't totally suck," he shrugged, "for a human." All the Cullens chuckled at that.

Sam stepped closer to Dean, put a hand on his shoulder, "If you want to go," he nodded, "it's okay."

Dean clasped Emmet's hand but turned in confusion to Sam. "'Go?' Dude, I don't have weak bladder issues and so not something to bring up..." They all did seem to be worrying about human needs, but that was going a bit far.

Sam frowned at him in confusion as Emmett snickered, Alice and Esme hid their giggles behind their hands.

"I don't think that Sam was talking about your bladder functions..." Carlisle started, only to have Esme tug on his sleeve to silence him.

Sam gave Dean a look, "Very funny. I meant home, jerk." he rolled his eyes.

Dean started to laugh, mouth closed at first. But a glimpse at Alice and Jasper had him laughing harder, because those two vampires weren't holding it in. Then they were all laughing, even Rosalie, which he thought was a miracle. The only one with a sober face was Sam. Coughing into his hand, he nodded. "Yeah, okay. Thanks for the game guys... it was definitely interesting. Mrs. C, Mr. C, nice to meeting you." Yeah, still felt weird to think of them as anyone's parent, at least anyone in their upper teens. 

Sam walked Dean to his car, stopping just before Dean got in. "It was fun..." Sam looked at the ground, bit his lip as he shifted his weight nervously. At the last minute, just when it seemed Dean was going to get in his car and he was going to miss his chance, Sam leaned in close, his mouth by Dean's ear. "And I kiss you good bye, slow and lingering, my tongue running over your lips first, before finding it's way inside to tangle with yours as my hands run over your body, press you up against me, cupping your ass to mold you to me. We both moan into the kiss at the feel of it. Then, I'm sucking your tongue, but better then I did before, like I was shown on the tapes, like it was your cock and not your tongue. Slowly I let go and draw back, nipping your lip with my teeth," he made a half soft huffing sound, "carefully." he added, before pulling back for real this time a small smile on his face as he walked back toward his family.

"Damn..." Dean released a hot breath, and got inside the car. Sam played dirty too.

* * *

The night of the game, Sam had gone to Dean's and stayed the night again. They saw each other after school most days, with Sam staying over some of the time. 

Sam still had the misfortune of seeing Dean flirting with every girl in school it seemed, but at least Dean hadn't gone out with any of them. Of course, whether he realized it himself or not was anyone's guess. 

Dean asked Sam to go along on more and more hunts, until Sam almost felt like they were a team and not like he was doing favors here and there. Sam made sure to go along on all of Dean's pool hall trips, not that Dean fought him on this anymore. And Sam still had never told him about how he pre-paid guys to lose to Dean quickly.

Three and a half weeks after the football game, on a Saturday evening, Sam headed to Dean's only to find his bedroom light off, the house dark and no car in the driveway. A little hurt, he followed. Concentrating solely on Dean and the unique scent the Impala left behind, it wasn't too hard to find Dean. The part that was confusing, the part that Sam couldn't understand was why Dean had left in the first place without telling him. If he was on a hunt, why hadn't he told him about it? Asked him to go? If this was... no, it wasn't a date, he didn't feel any feminine hands on Dean, nor did he think that even Dean would take his date to...

Sam tilted his head as he looked at the building. An old insane asylum? What the hell...? It was a hunt. A damn hunt and Dean had left him behind. What?! Why?

His hands curled into fists, Sam walked up to the front of the building, following Dean's scent to where he had snuck in around the back of the place. Making his way inside, the first thing Sam noticed was the stink of mold and mildew, of death and ancient blood. It was dark, damn dark, but Sam could see fine without the use of a flashlight. But, he knew Dean couldn't, so he kept an eye out for the small beam. The halls wove in a maze, each seemingly darker than the last. At the end of one, Dean's scent stopped. Just stopped. Sam turned to his left, to the closed door and reached for the handle and pushed the old heavy door open. 

Looking in from the door, golden hazel eyes found what they were seeking. Dean was on his knees on the floor, rope, obviously cut rope, laying around him along with a strip of cloth and he was now working at cutting his wrists free. Sam's anger at Dean coming here on his own, alone and vulnerable, washed through him only to be replaced by something else, something darker as he gasped in a breath, his eyes widening even as they darkened to an inky black. Desire, strong, harsh and raw, shot through Sam, leaving him panting like a marathon runner as his gaze ranked over Dean. "Don't." the whispered word was torn from his throat.

Dean's head jerked up, his attempts to pass his knife between his wrists to separate them stalled. "Yeah?" His smile froze the instant he saw pitch black eyes staring at him, Sam's tense stance and the outline of his aroused cock pressing against his jeans. Dean swallowed hard and looked down, instantly realizing the ropes around his wrists had Sam in a state. Absolutely still, he watched, trusting Sam to keep his control.

Sam didn't answer, couldn't answer. He swallowed hard, his gaze riveted to the ropes around Dean's wrists. Wasn't it sick, wasn't it depraved of him that after all the things he had gone through, after years in bondage, in captivity, that the very sight of Dean bound right now, had him so hard he was aching? That his teeth and mouth ached, that his blood pounded in his temples, matching the beat of Dean's heart and that he had to fight with every fiber of his being not to lunge forward, and attack Dean, possess him, take from him what he wanted. His body, his blood. 

The contrast between the white of the ropes and the tanned skin of Dean's wrists, the way they dug into the tender flesh, just slightly, the fact that he knew he could do whatever he wanted and Dean would be helpless to stop him. The power, the control he would have over him. It excited Sam beyond reason. Forget that he was a vampire, forget that he was the stronger of the two, it was the idea that bound, that Dean would thrash and struggle and _beg_ while he was unable to fight, unable to move, to do anything but take whatever it was that Sam wanted to do to him. That was what had Sam hard, had him aching, had him ready to do the unthinkable. _Please don't move. No sudden moves, Dean. Oh God, don't move._

Sam's hands clenched and unclenched at his sides as he fought against his desire, his burning _need_ , against instinct to take and to feed and to _feel_ what he hungered for so desperately. Slowly, Sam tore his gaze away from the ropes, inky black eyes meeting green and in that moment, Sam didn't breathe, didn't blink, barely moved at all as he was _swept into a daydream....._

*

Dean's arms ached from being tied up to the ancient wrought iron chandeliers in some room with red velvet walls and torchlight. The sonsofbitches had him shirtless, standing on the balls of his feet, and stretched high. And they'd left him here for hours. Now he heard the door open behind him. He tried to turn, to push his body so he could go sideways and maybe get a look. "Who is it?" He shouted. The footsteps were drawing closer. Slowing. "What do you want?" he demanded, frustration coloring his voice.

Inky black eyes riveted on the form before him. Sam he stepped closer, hunger, raw and aching, burned in his body as he looked at Dean, muscles pulled taut and tight in his back from his arms being held, restrained over his head at such an unnatural height, the fine sheen of sweat making his tanned skin glisten in the low light.

Sam's steps slowed, his gaze raking over Dean as he fought the need to take more than he should, to possess him fully, completely. Body, blood and soul. His teeth and mouth ached, burned like his body, his blood pounded in his temples, his cock was so hard between his legs he was near to busting the zipper of his jeans. Sam's lips quirked upward at his question, a leering, nearly evil half smile. _You._

Faster than he would have time to react he was behind Dean, pressing his body up against him, arms wrapped around Dean, pulling him back, closer, crushing them together. His hands moved over Dean's naked torso, up his sides, across his chest, thumbs brushing over small male nipples, before his hands slid lower, over his taunt flat stomach, to the waistband of his jeans. Digits worked the fastenings quickly, efficiently, one hand slipping inside to cup Dean, holding him in his hand, squeezing gently as his other hand moved back to the center of his chest, to hold him firm, keep him still, pressed back against his body, his denim clad erection pressed against the cleft of Dean's denim covered ass.

The stream of curses at the tip of Dean's tongue never left him... never had a chance, replaced by the deep groan that broke from the back of his throat at the sensations slamming through his body. He’d never been touched like this, explored, squeezed... hell, he'd never pressed his ass against someone's cock, hadn't known what it would be like feeling the evidence of some guy's lust pricking your ass. He shifted and took a couple of breaths, knowing he shouldn't like this... . 

Straining, pushing on the balls of his feet, he tried again to turn. "Who the fuck are you?" 

Dean's groan went straight to Sam's cock, making it twitch, making him ache, making it harder to resist the urges he fought against. Dean was helpless, he could do what he wanted, take what he wanted, what he needed and there'd be nothing he could do to stop him. Sam's eyes closed and a hushed moan escaped him at the thought.

As Dean tried to turn, Sam pulled his hand from around him and reached into his jeans pocket, pulling out a bandana, quickly fastening it over Dean's eyes so he couldn't see, so he wouldn't know that it was his supposed _angel_ that was the one doing these things, feeling this way about him. Loving that he was bound and beautiful before him.

Dean's heart slammed against his chest. He made a sound of protest as the material went over his eyes, and shook his head 'no' but the stranger had his own agenda. The thought of what it might be had Dean swallowing hard.

Once the blindfold was in place, Sam s tucked his thumbs into the waistband of Dean’s jeans and boxers and pulled them down to Dean's thighs. Taking half a step back to unfasten his own jeans, he pulled them down, freeing his leaking erection and pressing himself against the cleft of Dean's ass once again. Skin to skin now.

His attempts to pull away were futile. Dean's heart lurched as his clothes were pushed out of the way and he felt a firm wet cock slide against his ass. He gave a strangled cry, trying to manage these strange feelings rushing through his system. Stop, he should say stop, but a part of him was screaming to know what came next. Breathing heavily, he forced out the question. "What do you want? Who are you?"

Sam wrapped an arm around Dean's middle, pulling him up against him, as he reached up with one hand and shoved two fingers into Dean's mouth, swirling them and pulling them out quickly before bringing them to his own mouth to dampen further. He reached down then, just like he'd seen on those tapes, and ran his fingers over Dean’s tightly puckered entrance before slipping a single finger inside.

Big hands. Long fingers, yeah... he was trying to file away information about the person as the guy's fingers invaded his mouth. Getting manhandled like this shouldn't be getting him this hot, nor the knowledge that the man behind him was hard as rock. All his musings came to a standstill when a finger invaded him, this time at his hole. "No..." he whispered, his throat raw with fear and excitement. His fingers clamped around the iron bar of the chandelier as he stretched higher. "I... please don't," he whispered, screwing his eyes shut against the slight burn. 

Sam leaned in, his mouth near Dean's ear, "Shshsh..." he comforted, as his finger sank deeper. He crooked his finger, as he leaned in, trailing kisses along Dean's jaw. His pulse point so close, Sam could hear his blood surging through his veins like a freight train. Sam hissed in a breath, as he grit his aching teeth, tried to not give in to the dark temptation to bite, to drink, to take Dean's blood. But, he wanted to. Wanted it so bad, more than anything else, just like he wanted Dean's body.

Dean started to whimper, but found himself leaning toward the heat of those kisses... their comfort. Somehow concentrating on what this stranger's mouth was doing to him helped him block out the fear and slight pain. He wanted to know who this was. Wanted a face to put that mouth to, and the goddamned blind was stopping him. "What's going on... what are you doing?" he asked. "What do you want?"

Sam's finger rubbed against a small bump inside Dean, and Sam stilled at the reaction, a small smile pulling at his lips.

Pulling the single digit back, he tried for two as he reached up with his other hand, turning Dean's head so he could kiss his lips, give his aching mouth something else to do besides want his blood, want to drink and not stop until there was nothing left, until this fire burning inside of him was put out, until he had possessed Dean completely.

White hot heat slammed through Dean as Sam's finger caressed a sensitive spot deep inside him. He jerked, moaning as his body made contact with the stranger's... so hard, so hot behind him. No, he wasn't supposed to like this, Goddamnit. Not with a stranger, not with a coward who wouldn't show his face. And yet he was rocking back as far as he could... waiting for that sensation again as he was stretched wider.

At first, he kept his mouth closed... trying to resist his own need. But that mouth on his was persistent, hard and fierce. The instant he opened his mouth slightly, it was invaded... the stranger was taking him with his tongue, so hard, so furious. The man's tongue pulsed in and out of his mouth, and all Dean could do was groan at the incredible heat flushing through him. He started to jerk back and forth, hardly able to move, but trying to make the man give him what he needed. 

Sam moaned into Dean's mouth, slowly releasing his hold on the side of Dean's face. He lowered his hand instead to Dean's hard shaft, wrapping his hand around his length, pumping him, slowly at first, then with increasing speed, long strokes as the fingers of his other hand thrust up into him, scraping over the bundle of nerves every so often.

 _Holy...._ Dean didn't know how much he could take. Blinded, all of his other senses had come alive. He was so aware of the stranger... of every move that tall man made, almost knowing before he was touched that he was moving a finger or his mouth or a part of his body closer. When he started to jerk him off, Dean leaned back as far as he could, moaning into the man's mouth. _Good. So fucking good. Don't stop._

It wasn't long before Sam couldn't take it anymore, he had to have him, wanted to feel what it was like to be inside of him, surrounded by that heat. He couldn't only imagine how hot Dean would be, his mouth was so warm so good, the real thing could only be better, had to be. Tearing his mouth away from Dean's he trailed wet kisses down the side of Dean's neck, sucked hard on the skin over his jugular vein, feeling the blood flowing underneath. Sam's mouth ached so bad, so good, his teeth... his blood pounded in his temples, matching the beat of Dean's thundering heart.

Dean's labored breaths filled the room. He licked his swollen lips, knowing he was going to be bruised t. He moved his head, trying to find the man's mouth... frustrated when he missed. "Please..."

Pulling his fingers from inside of Dean, Sam pressed himself against Dean. "Want you..." the words were harsh, quiet, filled with need, lust and longing, torn from his throat, and Sam had trouble recognizing his own voice.

"Oh God...." The feel of the man's rock hard arousal against him had Dean squirming. He needed something. Wanted something. He didn't know if _that_ was what he wanted, but he did want more kissing and touching... and he wanted to know who was making him feel like this. As the hand kept stroking him, relentlessly sending waves of pleasure through him, Dean knew it was gonna happen. His stomach tightened in anticipation, his back and shoulders straining as he gripped the bar tighter.

Sam's free arm wrapped around Dean as he leaned back slightly, lining himself up with Dean's spit slick hole. He pulled back the arm around Dean, reaching down to run a hand over his own cock, smearing the precum, helping to lube it, before he slowly guided himself into Dean. Reaching back around him, Sam wrapped his arm around Dean's middle as he leaned in, his lips capturing Dean's as he slowly slid into him. His tongue thrusting into Dean's mouth, mapping it out, caressing the interior, before tangling with Dean's own tongue.

Fully engulfed in Dean's hot tight hole, Sam groaned into his mouth, eyes closing tightly, his hand on Dean's cock moving faster, squeezing slightly, his wrist swiveling with each long stroke. He breathed deep though his nose, Dean's scent enveloping him, surrounding him, adding to the sensations, the ache, the hunger already making him dizzy, making him tremble and groan with need. 

Sam's hand around Dean, slid up his chest, down and back up, pressing Dean back, nearly bowing him backward, the bindings at Dean's wrists cutting into tender flesh in at the odd angle, as Sam thrust into him, his mouth locked with Dean's, his hand on Dean's cock stroking urgently. God, he was so hot, so tight, so fucking good.

Once Dean's body adjusted and got used to being stretched by the thick fullness of the man's cock, his initial pain was forgotten and replaced by excruciating pleasure each time the stranger fucked. Head rolled back, mouth, ass and cock being taken at a relentless pace, a rock hard body holding him in place, and his wrists chafing against rope as he struggled against them... needing to touch the stranger, to pull him even closer, to know how he felt. He growled in frustration, but a part of him understood that his powerlessness was what excited the stranger, and that got him all sorts of hard.

His body was covered with a sheen of sweat. The pressure building inside him until he wasn't sure he could stand another minute. The way that large hand was moving over his cock, knowing exactly how to touch him, how to bring him to the edge. He thrashed, trying to get there faster, reaching for release even as he became more aggressive, chasing the stranger's tongue, kissing him like he was getting fucked.

Sam's tightened his hold, groaning as he opened his mouth more to Dean, their teeth knocking together. _Oh God, Dean..._ Sam squeezed his eyes closed, thrusting into Dean harder, mindless to whether he was hurting him or not, just needing to find his release, end this ache... this burning desire to possess him. His hand moved faster over Dean's cock, his strokes long and hard, thumb running over the tip every so often. 

Tearing his mouth away from Dean's Sam lowered his head to his neck. He couldn't take it anymore, he needed, he yearned for his blood. Sam's teeth, his entire mouth ached with the want, the need for him to take, drink, devour Dean's blood. His blood pounded in his temples so badly, so loudly, he was groaning with the overwhelming sensations. Trembling from trying not to, from fighting against taking what he wanted, Sam's breath ghosted over the skin at Dean's jugular before his mouth latched onto the skin, sucking hard, tongue running over skin, teasing... though who was really being teased was up for debate.

Dean's throat burned... ached ... ached for something he didn't understand. Dean thrashed, pressing his throat more firmly against firm lips and sharp teeth. He groaned, and breaking the kiss, pleaded. "Need... please... want..." But he didn't know what it was that he needed, or wanted this stranger to do to him, that he wasn't already doing. "Please..." he cried out as his balls started to draw up tight against his body.

Sam groaned, a soft growl sounding deep in his throat as his teeth started to pierce tender flesh. At the same moment as heat pooled low in Sam's belly, his balls drawing up. As soon as his fangs sank in, and Dean's warm, rich, delicious blood touched his tongue, Sam spent himself deep inside him, muscles tightening and a low groan sounding against Dean's neck.

A dark pleasure, like none he'd ever felt, swept over Dean as he came hard and slowly sank into oblivion.

Sam finally pulled his head away, when Dean hung lifeless in his arms. He had tried to stop, had tried to tell himself that he wouldn't drink it all, that he could only taste, just take a sip, but it had been useless, as though he were possessed by some dark fiend that didn't care, didn't want to hear that he needed to stop, that humans were breakable, so easy to expire. His blood had been sweet, had tasted of pleasure and pain, of heartache and happiness long forgotten, had tasted of stolen youth and sunshine. And God help him, but Sam had wanted it all. He threw his head back now as a broken sob escaped him, clinging to the form in his arms.

*

[Reality/End Daydream]

Sam sucked in a breath, blinking, as dark eyes looked around the room where Dean had been kneeling and working cutting the ropes off his wrists. He found himself alone now, Dean was no longer kneeling in front of him, but on the floor a few steps away, Sam saw the ropes from his wrists, tossed as though he had worked them off as he made his way out of the room.

Lifting a shaking hand, Sam ran it down his face. It was only then that he realized his cheeks were wet. Crying, he'd been crying. Clenching his jaw at the memory of Dean dead in his arms, Sam turned and walked out of the room.


	11. Chapter 11

Dean was digging out a grave when he heard the purr of an engine and then saw a car hightailing it toward him. Recognizing it as Sam’s he went back to digging. 

Back at the asylum, he'd seen how close to the edge Sam had been. He'd never seen the vampire’s expression that hard, his eyes so dark and hungry. At first it had made him want to laugh, but the longer Sam stared at him, the uneasier he'd become. Eventually, once he freed himself, he chose to slip away while Sam appeared to be mesmerized. 

The car parked behind him, the door slammed and he heard the crunch of boots coming toward him. He shoveled out more dank dirt and spoke without turning around. "So...feeling any better? Vampy moment under control?" 

Sam stopped a few feet away from Dean, hands flexing into fists at his sides, afraid to go any closer, the memory still too fresh in his mind. The feel of Dean's dead weight in his arms. Sam gave a slight nod of his head. "You didn't ask me to go with you, the asylum."

"No. I didn't." Tossing the last bit of dirt out, he rested on the shovel for a moment and wiped his brow with his sleeve. 

Sam licked his lips, his gaze going to the grave Dean was digging for a moment before he looked back at him. "Why?" 

Dean turned around to look up at the vampire. "Did you look at the place, Sam? I didn't think you'd like it here," he said simply, stepping to the side and using the shovel like crowbar to pry the casket open.

Sam shook his head, "I didn't really notice..." he took a step closer, frowning as he watched Dean, only to take a step back again. "Why don't you let me do that?" he nodded his head toward a nearby tombstone, "Step back there."

Gesturing to the spot next to him, Dean looked up. "Knock yourself out."

Sam shook his head, "No, why don't you back up over there?" he suggested again, indicating the same gravestone as before.

"Because I'm gonna salt the bones and light it up? You know the drill. What's up?" He checked Sam's eyes again and saw no warning in them. 

Sam looked away, shook his head. "I..." he sighed, "nothing." he told him as he walked over and jumped down into the ditch with Dean. Sam held his breath and made sure to remain as far from him as he could and still do what he needed to, quickly stepping away once he had the lid open. Standing a few feet away from Dean again as he continued to watch him, arms crossed over his chest.

Dean made a face. "Are you pouting because I didn't ask you to come? I just told you it was for your own good." Muttering under his breath about drama queens, he reached outside the ditch and grabbed the bag of salt and started to pour it over the old bones. Ugh, he'd never get used to the smell. 

Sam frowned as he watched Dean. If he thought it was about his not asking him to go on the hunt, fine, Sam would let him think it. He had been upset about that earlier... before... 

Sam shifted his weight, "You want me to do that. I don't need to breathe, remember?"

Rolling his eyes, Dean didn't answer and merely poured some flammable liquid over the bones. Scrambling out of the grave and wiping the dirt off onto his jeans, he struck a match and tossed it inside once Sam hopped out. Immediately, the casket and contents caught fire, the heat blowing back and making his skin grow warm. He stepped back toward Sam, and then slapped him on the back. "Cut it out Sam, it's really childish." Yeah, he might not have a leg to stand on when he was criticizing childishness, but still. "Man up, alright?"

Sam stiffened, looking over at him with his jaw clenched, before he let his arms fall and stepped around Dean and headed to his car. "Since you're alright and you're done here. I'll see you around," he muttered, head hanging. Sam closed his eyes as memories of his daydream drifted through his mind. Even in a dream he had hurt him... killed him. What hope did he have in real life?

"The hell..." Dean cursed. Watching as Sam's tail lights made a red streak as he drove away, he felt his anger rise. He didn't like to be told what to do, and this... this _punishment_ for not having invited Sam along felt like Sam was trying to force him to behave a certain way. Well fuck that.

Going back and checking on the burned body, he grabbed his gear and headed for his car. His job was done here. There had been a ghost that needed to be laid to rest, but her very much alive lover didn't want that. So the guy had attacked Dean who'd been dealing with the ghost and had been fooled by the guy's 'scared' act. He’d cut himself free and dealt with getting rid of the ghost permanently, and didn’t think the boyfriend would cause any more trouble. As for Sam... hadn’t he fucking noticed how much the asylum looked like the facility that he’d been held at? Christ… even Dean wasn’t _that_ insensitive.

* * *

Sam made his way to Dean's bedroom window and slid it open, quietly making his way inside. He walked toward the bed, but stayed a few steps away as he looked down at Dean's sleeping form. He knew Dean was angry with him, but maybe that was for the best. He couldn't even seem to pass an entire night without looking in on him, without seeing him. Even after earlier, after his day dream from hell. Sam raised a hand and ran it through his hair. 

He just had to stay away from him, if he kept his distance, maybe he could keep Dean safe from the worst threat to Dean's life... himself.

Dean abruptly came awake and saw Sam's silhouette against the window. Ordinarily, he didn't wake up when Sam waltzed in... which bugged the hell out of him because he liked to think of himself as a light sleeper. But tonight, he'd half been waiting up, so maybe he hadn't gone into a deep sleep.

"You done punishing me now?" His voice was distinctly unfriendly.

Sam sighed, "I wasn't... _punishing_ you."

"Oh yeah? So that whole unfriendly display, I imagined it?" Sitting up in bed, Dean crossed his arms. "You know, I give an inch, you take a fucking mile. I don't like it."

Sam shook his head and looked away, "It's not what you think...how you think it is."

"Yeah Sam, it is." He glared daggers at Sam in the dark. 

Sam shook his head, "No, Dean. You don't have any idea what it was about. Trust me," he told him as he turned and paced away from Dean, arms crossing over his chest.

The lies had Dean gritting his teeth. "You weren't mad I didn't take you along? You didn't come in there steaming and accusing me of not calling you? You weren't as cold as the Goddamned arctic winds when you came to 'check up' on me at the graveyard?" He leaned slightly forward. "I've told you before, you want to be my friend... fine... be a friend. But I don't need to be guilted or bullied into anything, I won't. Not even in your dreams, Sam."

Dropping back, Dean watched the vampire pace.

Sam huffed, "You don't want to know about _my_ dreams, believe me," he muttered under his breath.   
Turning to look at Dean, Sam shook his head, "I didn't accuse you. I didn't understand why. I thought.." he sighed, licked his lips, "I thought we were... I dunno partners. And you went without me. I was hurt, but that's not why I stayed away from you in the graveyard, why I'm staying away from you now. Everything I do, Dean, it’s to protect you and tonight I got a very real glimpse of what it is that is the biggest threat to you."

"My bodyguard," he grit out, "right. I don't need one. Just because I was busted by that guy, doesn't mean I need one. It happens all the time Sam... there are threats out there all the time. I get grabbed, I find a way out, I move on. I don't need you to freak out on me every fucking time that happens. Threats are my job... get it through your head and we'll both be happier, Goddamnit."

Sam glared at him, grit his teeth and tried not to lose his temper... and failed. "It's not that you were 'busted', it's not the fucking asylum, it's not the damn things I've saved you from over the years and it's not even those fucking bastards at the bar, alright!? None of them can hold a candle to the thing that threatens you every damn day of your life," he laughed harshly, "And the really messed up thing is... I don't know how to make _that thing_ go away. How to make _it_ leave you alone." His jaw clenched.

As Sam raised his voice, Dean was very close to getting out of bed and telling him to get the hell out. That he didn't need this. But then, something in Sam's voice changed and Dean listened... really listened. His chest rose and fell as his eyes tracked Sam and tried to figure out what the hell he was talking about. Then it hit him.

"You. You think you're the biggest threat to me." It was a statement, not a question. "No, you're wrong. You may be *a* threat, but you're not my biggest one, trust me on that. You’re not… not even close. You don't walk around wanting me dead. You're just scared you'll fall off the wagon, and I get that... I do, but I would still turn my back on you every time Sam. I already have so many times."

He looked away for a minute, then back at the vampire. "Is this about you getting hot and bothered when you saw me roped up? Cause dude, not a big deal. I thought it was kinda cute."

Sam narrowed his eyes as he huffed, "I saw you die tonight."

Dean looked down at himself, then back up. "I'm alive and kicking. You want to explain that?"

Sam nodded, "Because I stayed the hell away from you."

"No you didn't. You telling me a few feet between you, a big bad vampire and me... _that_ stopped you? Sam, you stopped yourself. Look at me, I'm alive, alright? What you might have done, could have done... that means nothing. You didn't lay a finger on me, that's reality." Sam looked so fucking miserable, Dean felt guilty about his earlier irritation. "C'mere," he patted the bed.

Sam's eyes went to the bed where Dean's hand patted the mattress and a muscle in his jaw twitched as he shook his head, "No, Dean. I can't. I won't." He slowly looked up into his face, "I never want to feel you go limp in death as I hold you in my arms again. Ever."

"I'm not dead, I didn't go limp... oh my God, don't every mention the word ‘limp’ when you're talking about me," he tried to joke, then released a breath. "So what? You imagined sucking me dry?" He guessed, but could see his guess was on the mark. "Sam, you're a vampire, hello... what do vampires dream about if not that? Totally normal." 

Sam huffed, groaned in frustration that Dean wasn't getting it. His arms moved, hands going to his face to cover it, before he ran them upward into his hair, gripping handfuls of the silky strands and releasing, as his arms fell to his sides, eyes narrowed. He nodded, "Sure, Dean. Perfectly normal for me to think about fucking you senseless, bound, blindfolded, helpless, and then, just as we're both coming I sink my fangs into your neck and drink you dry and not even caring at that very moment that I am. Even though part of me is screaming at me to stop, there's another part of me," he shook his head "that wouldn't have stopped, that didn't stop... not until there was nothing left." he grit his teeth, "you're right, totally. fucking. normal."

Dean felt a warm flush sweep through him at the details about Sam's kink as applied to himself. "Did you like it? Need it?"

Sam let out a low growl, "Dean! Goddammit! Not funny! Just stop it!" He turned on his heel, pacing away, hands clenched into fists. He stopped at the window, looking out, hand braced on the sill. His voice was softer when he spoke again, "I loved every fucking second of it. It was the hottest damn thing I've ever imagined in my life." He closed his eyes, hung his head, "until the moment that I knew what I had done, that I had killed the very thing, the person that I..." he bit his lip, didn't finish the thought out loud. _loved._

"It's just a dream... don't you know anything?" He said softly. "Everyone has dreams of things they wouldn't want for real. You know how many times I've killed my own dad? Or how many times I've watched him almost die so I could be the hero in my dreams? How I fucked this nun I once saw and couldn't get out of my mind?" He cleared his throat. "None of it would happen in real life, but dreams... they're just an outlet. That's all. Maybe they're there so that you don't go through with stuff when you're awake and can just get your kicks imagining it," he shrugged. 

Dean didn't know if what he said was making a difference. "So what does this mean? You're never gonna come close to me again? Because of a daydream?"

Sam raised his head, opened his eyes and stared unseeingly out the window. "If I was half the angel I'm supposed to be, then that answer would be that, yes I'm not, I'm going to stay as fucking far from you as possible and still keep my promise." Slowly, he turned to look at Dean, feeling miserable. Feeling like the worst kind of monster. "Sadly, I guess I really am not an angel at all. You deserve better."

Pulling the blankets off, Dean swung his legs off the bed and walked up to Sam, irreverently sliding his arms around Sam's waist and closing his hands over his stomach as he leaned in and kissed the side of Sam's neck. "Angel's are over-rated, and in case you haven't noticed... I'm not really heaven material." Smiling as Sam tensed, he leaned even further and got a look at his clear hazel eyes. "Sam. You're the _only_ person I'd ever trust to tie me up. That's the truth. You gonna make me prove it?" He was half hoping.

Sam stiffened even more if possible, not breathing, not moving, he stood there like a statue. "Don't...please..." the words were torn from his throat, full of pain and maybe a touch of need that he tried to hide. 

He looked upward, toward the ceiling, not really seeing it. "You don't know how horrible it was, how my heart broke when I held you like that." He closed his eyes for a moment before looking down again. "Why? Why are you so nice to a monster? I know it's not what you were taught," he turned to face Dean, golden hazel meeting green in the darkness of the room, "so why?"

Sliding had hand up Sam's chest, Dean cupped Sam's chin. "Because you're _not_ a monster. You know what I do to monsters... not this." He pressed light kisses along Sam's jaw, waiting to see if he'd accept more before slanting his mouth over Sam's. He kissed him, slowly at first, then pressing his advantage when Sam opened and let him inside. Their tongues slid together, and just like that, Dean was on fire. His free hand roved over Sam's abs and chest, fingers digging in, searching and pulling his shirt up so he could feel bare skin under his warm palm. Good, always so good between them when Sam stopped over-thinking and allowed himself to respond.

Sam hadn't meant to allow this, hadn't planned to touch Dean at all, but then Dean was kissing him, his mouth on his skin, against his and how the hell was he suppose to not allow that, to deny himself the very thing he wanted, deny himself something else yet again? He couldn't. He wasn't _that_ strong. God help him, he just wasn't. 

Finally, Sam gripped Dean by the shoulders with a growl, shoving him away. "Stop it! Didn't you hear me!? Aren't you listening!? You think this is a joke!?" he was shaking him, only realizing how hard when Dean's head snapped back and forth on his shoulders as a small child's would, or a rag doll. 

It was then that Sam let out a pained sound, like a wounded animal, before walking them hurriedly backward, pushing Dean down against his bed. Sam gripped Dean's wrists, pinning them against the bed above Dean's head. "You want to know what it's like, you want me to tell you what I did? Show you?" he grit out between clenched teeth as he straddled Dean's hips.

Dean was about to protest the sudden roughness. If he'd been expecting it, it might have been different. But then he was pushed onto the bed and Sam was sitting on him and gripping his wrists in _that way_ and Dean registered the fact he might get some sex... at last. His gaze locked with Sam's, lips parted, nodding. _Show me._

Sam leaned down, his face inches from Dean's, "I touched you, I kissed you, I tugged your jeans down and I," he adjusted his grip, pinning both of Dean's wrists in one hand, before moving the other down to cup the side of Dean's ass, "I pushed my fingers into you, then my cock, I fucked you, stroked you, and I fucking came inside you!" he took a deep angry breath before lowering his head, his mouth near Dean's ear, his voice quieter as he spoke again, "And then I sank my teeth into your neck," his tongue darted out to lick the area and a groan left him, "right there. And I fucking drank you dry." Sam pulled his head back to reveal inky black eyes, "Is that what you want!? Huh? Is it!?"

Squirming against Sam's immovable body, he groaned at the images Sam was planting in his mind, coupled with the sensation of having his ass grabbed, and Sam's tongue licking a path up his throat. His hormones were raging and Sam wanted him to hold a conversation? He had to be fucking kidding.

"Alright... alright, I get it. Now rewind... do everything you said, touch me, take my clothes off, fuck me... come inside me Sam, please? Please do this for me, I need it, Goddamnit. Rope for you... dirty talk for me," his own eyes darkened with lust as he lifted up and brought his mouth to Sam's, licking along the seam of the vampire's mouth and opening his own in invitation.

He was crazy. He had to be. That or he wasn't listening. Didn't understand. Sam pulled his head back, out of reach of Dean's mouth. He licked his lips, tasting Dean and had to clench his teeth, muscle twitching in his jaw. God, why? Why was he saying all the wrong things, why was he teasing a fucking monster?

His grip on Dean's wrists tightened as onyx eyes narrowed, "Are you even listening?" he hissed out before shaking his head. "You're going to _make_ me hurt you. You know that, " he nodded, "right? You know that you are going to keep going until I finally break and my worst nightmare comes true, yes?"

Dean tried again, lifting up and hitting air. Sam was serious, he wasn't gonna touch him. Frustration bubbled up inside him. He tried to loosen Sam's grip on his wrists, screwing up his face up as he doubled his efforts, he finally shouted. "Fine. Get off me. Get the fuck away from me, you don't want this... I don't know what you want, Sam. Just... fucking get off." 

Why the hell did he put up with this, letting Sam get him all hot and ready, only for him to keep hitting the brakes? "You don't want me, there are plenty of others who do." He was breathing hard, and half sorry for having spoken the words, but angry enough not to apologize.

Sam nodded, his grip on Dean's wrist's loosening, "I never said I didn't _want_ , Dean." he released him and pulled away, up off of him, off the bed, moving to stand beside the window again, ready to leave. Sam stopped and looked over his shoulder at him, "Sometimes you can't have what you want... it just doesn't work that way. Sometimes, feelings," _love_ "aren't enough." 

"Maybe you shouldn't want what you can't have, or maybe you should want it bad enough to try harder," he grit out, rolling over onto his side, his back to the window. _Sonovabitch_ his eyes were not only stinging, but goddamned tears were rolling down his cheeks like he was some little kid. He took a deep breath, trying not to let it sound like a sniffle and hoping Sam would just dive right on out of there. He'd fucked up another night already.

Sam looked back out the window, posed to leave, foot on the window sill. He huffed softly, shook his head before hanging it, "I told you, I don't know _how_ to not want you, not want to touch you, to..." his voice dropped even quieter than his normal soft tone, "to not love you." He jumped from the window then, not waiting for a response, not wanting to hear whatever harsh things Dean had to say. Didn't want to hear him tell him that his feelings weren't returned.

"Bastard." A lump rose in Dean's throat and he started to sob like he hadn't for years. Goddamn him, Goddamn him for having this strong a hold over him.

* * *

Carlisle was dressed and ready for work, but there was still twenty minutes to kill before he left for the hospital. It only took ten minutes to get there and he needed to be in by six for surgery. Sitting in the living room, he turned the page of the newspaper he was reading, very much aware that Sam had started down the stairs.

After a long night of trying to decide what to do, alternating between bouts of anger, at himself, at Dean, at the unfairness of all of this, at everything, and crying softly, Sam decided to talk to Carlisle. He hadn't come up with anything to help either himself or Dean, only managed to sink into a near depression. 

Walking toward his father now, Sam hung his head as he took a seat in the armchair across from Carlisle. He glanced up at him through his long bangs and licked his lips. "Can... Can I talk to you for a minute?"

"Of course." Carlisle folded the paper neatly and put it down on the coffee table, before turning his golden gaze to his son. "You're troubled." He'd known even before he saw Sam.

Sam sighed, nodding before he finally looked up, golden hazel meeting gold. "It's Dean," he shrugged, "Well, Dean _and_ I actually. I - I try to explain things to him," he sighed, "but he doesn't listen. He pushes, it's like he thinks this is a game or something. Like he thinks I just need to try harder." 

He pulled from his seat and began to pace, his voice rising as he spoke, "Thing is, I _do_ try," he looked at Carlisle, "I swear to God, I try, I try so damn hard it hurts, but..." he ran a hand through his hair, "I know I'm just going to hurt him. Maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow, but one day, he's going to push me and I'm not going to be able to fight anymore."

Carlisle nodded reassuringly. "Good, you got that out of your system. Now... rewind and start over. Break it down for me." He was perceptive, but not a mind reader. 

Sam turned his head and stared at him for a moment, eyes narrowing, "What did you...?" he huffed, "Nevermind." he moved back and sat down again, leaning forward, elbows on knees, "Sex. It seems like that's all Dean wants and he keeps pushing me and I don't know what to do. I've tried..." he sighed, "I already told you." he mumbled with a dismissive wave of his hand.

"You explained you might kill him in the process?" He shook his head. "Not very bright for a hunter, is he?"

Sam huffed, "Yeah, I explained. Like I said, he just tells me to fight it. To try harder."

"Hmm. People are the sum of their experiences. He's been without a parent, without guidance for a long time. Probably had to fight for everything he has," he looked at Sam for confirmation. "So he thinks if you want it, if you work hard enough, suffer enough, you can make it. He expects a lot of himself, and he expects the same from others."

He leaned back, frowning slightly. "The others tell me he's a borderline sex maniac."

Sam opened his mouth only to close it again, running a hand through his hair with a sigh. "Apparently he's referred to as 'All the way Dean'," he shrugged, "something like that." He nodded, "Yeah. See? I don't know what to do. I mean... I want..." he paused, pressing his lips together as he shook his head, "don't matter what I want. I can't. I just don't know how to save him from _this_ monster."

Reaching out, Carlisle gripped both of Sam's arms. "Stop. I don't want to hear you call yourself that. It's untrue. For years you protected him. Even now you protect him, you fight temptation, you do it to teach him, to help him... that's not being a monster, Sam. Your desires don’t define you, your actions do."

Sam's jaw clenched as he fought back another bout of tears. Golden hazel eyes searching Carlisle's face, "I had a dream, a daydream that I..." he raised a hand wiping his eyes. "I drank him dry. We had sex and I drank until there was nothing left and I enjoyed every second of it." He shook his head slowly, "how is that not a monster?" he asked, his voice whisper soft, broken. "it wasn't until he was limp in my arms that I realized what I had done." He paused, "it's just a matter of time before that dream is reality, but I don't know how to let go."

"The reality is that they... _humans_... are hamburgers on legs, when it comes to us. You want his blood, you imagine taking it, and yet every day you find a way not to. That makes you more hero than monster, Sam. Most of us would have given in and gotten rid of the source of our daily pain." He patted Sam's shoulders and resisted the urge to wipe his tears. "When it hurts too much, then it's time to go away. Go to Edward and Bella."

Sam swallowed, as he looked at his father, nodding. "Yeah.... maybe." he tried to offer a small smile, but it was weak and obviously fake. He glanced at the clock, "I guess you need to go." Sam pulled to his feet, "Thanks," he shrugged a shoulder, "for the talk."

Carlisle got up too. "You know you can come visit the hospital anytime. Or send your... send _him_ to speak with me, if you think it would help."

Sam gave a small smile, "Thanks." he huffed softly, "I doubt Dean would talk to you... but it might be worth asking him if things keep on the way they are." he nodded, "Again, thanks. Have a good day, Dad." He headed back up the stairs to grab his jacket before jumping out his bedroom window and heading for Dean's...with a pit stop at the diner.

* * *

Sam entered Dean's room in his normal way, though today, he closed the window after himself, shutting out the hard rain. His eyes intent on Dean's form, Sam made his way toward the bed, opening his jacket and pulling out the bag holding Dean's breakfast. He set it down on the night stand along with the cup of coffee, eyes never leaving Dean as he moved. Slowly, he sat down on the edge of Dean's bed and reached out a hand, cupping Dean's face, lax with sleep, his thumb trailing slowly over Dean's full bottom lip. "Love you and never want to hurt you." he whispered before pressing his lips together and tearing his gaze from Dean's face.

"Mmm uhmmm." Dean fought against the voice trying to wake him. "Me too, now go away... lemme sleep, Sam. Tired." He licked his lip, where he'd been touched, smiling slightly as he tried to sink back into oblivion.

Sam's head jerked back, eyes wide as he looked at Dean. He... No, he didn't just say that he...   
Sam licked his lips, "You too, what? Love me?" he asked softly, straight white teeth worrying his bottom lip.

"Yeah, now shush," Dean tried to push him away, and meeting air, just pulled his pillow up over his face, covering his ear. "Don't vampires know humans need sleep?'

Sam's lips slowly curved into a smile, lighting his face, dimples showing. He pressed his lips together, to try and stop grinning like a fool, cleared his throat, "I, uh," his eyes went to the breakfast sitting on the nightstand, before going back to Dean's face, "I brought you breakfast."

"Shush." Pressing his lips together, Dean kept his eyes closed. So fucking tired, maybe he should just skip the first couple classes. "Either get in the bed and sleep... or go away and be quiet."

Sam frowned, "Dean... aren't you scared I might lose control? Don't you listen to me?" he reached a hand up, tugged the pillow away from Dean's face, before combing his fingers slowly through his hair. "I never want to hurt you." he told him softly.

"You won't... no, you do. All the time," he mumbled, practically purring at the feel of the hand petting his hair. Lifting up, eyes still sealed, he put his head on Sam's lap, never mind the awkward angle.

Sam frowned down at him, wrapping an arm around him as he continued to run his fingers through his hair, "What do you mean, 'I do, all the time'?" he shook his head, "I've always been so careful..."

"See there... that hurts. Too goddamned careful. Make me feel like..." He started to come out of sleep, blinking his eyes open. It took him a minute to look up, and realize his head was on Sam. "You're here?" After last night, Dean was surprised. 

Sam frowned, brow creasing as he nodded, "Yeah, I'm here. Feel like what?" he wasn't done talking. He wanted to know, needed to know. How was he hurting him? God, he always tried so hard not to.

Dean pushed up and sat, scrubbing his hand over his face and hoping to hell his eyes, which felt a bit scratchy, showed no signs of crying. "What are you doing here, I thought..." He smelled the tantalizing scent of coffee, and turned to reach for it. "Usually disappear after one of our fights."

Sam shrugged a shoulder, "I missed you." He smiled slightly, "And I did leave. Talked to my father this morning, so, I'm feeling a little better than I was last night." He frowned slightly, "What about you? You okay? Still pissed at me?"

"Tired. Tired of fighting. Different day, same argument." He shrugged. He wanted to feel pissed, because that was better than what had replaced that feeling. An empty hole in him, something he wasn't used to. He took a long drink, wincing when he burned his tongue. He knew Sam had no answers, and he doubted his dad had any either. 

Sam licked his lips, not knowing what else to say. Tearing his gaze away from Dean he looked over, nodding toward the bag with the Styrofoam container inside, "I brought breakfast too." He sat silent for a few moments, head hanging, "Dean, I- I'm sorry. This might not scare you. I dunno," he shook his head, "but it scares the hell out of me. I'm so afraid of what I might do." He bit his lip, "But, you're right. We've been through this. Let's talk about something else then."

"Not hungry. This is good, thanks." He took a deep breath. "I probably should take a shower." The bed was nice and warm, and Sam was sitting so close. Dean didn't really want to move. 

Sam nodded, "Okay..." he looked at him for a long moment, lips pressed together before leaning in, "Don't move." he whispered as his eyes fluttered closed. His lips met Dean's in a soft tentative kiss, tongue slowly darting out to lick his bottom lip, push into his mouth, caress the roof of his mouth, brush against Dean's tongue once before he slowly pulled back, ending the kiss. His eyes fluttered open as he released a breath, "I just had to do that."

It was over before Dean could pull him closer, before he could fully react. _I wanted you to do more._ Dean forced a smile. He had to shake off this mood, or whatever it was, this wasn't like him at all. Pulling himself off the bed, he went and grabbed some clothes and went into the bathroom, carefully closing the door.

Sam watched Dean as he rose from the bed and walked to the bathroom, closing the door after himself. That simple gesture had Sam frowning. Why...? Dean usually never bothered worrying about the door... at least he never had before. Still frowning, his eyes on the bathroom door, Sam turned slightly on the bed, laying back against the pillows. Dean's scent clung to the fabric of the sheets, the pillowcases. The bed was still warm from his body heat, and it would have relaxed him, if it didn't have him thinking about _other_ hot areas of Dean's body. About how he imagined they would be, about how he knew how warm his mouth was, how he tasted, how he felt crushed against him. Sam threw an arm over his eyes with a groan. Going to see Edward and Bella was sounding better and better all the time.

Twenty minutes later, Dean emerged from the bathroom dressed and ready to go. As he walked to the bed, the sight of Sam stretched out on it, half the sheets on him, arm covering his eyes and lips parted had him almost coming to a stop. Every instinct in his body screamed for him to just go lay on top of Sam and kiss the hell out of him, show him how it could be. But another part of him knew he was feeling too vulnerable right now for another rejection. 

He reached for his coffee, and tried to make a joke. "You know, teasing humans is just as dangerous as teasing vampires."

Sam pulled his arm away from his eyes and looked up at Dean, "Hmm?" he glanced down at himself, "Oh," he frowned slightly and sat up, swinging his legs off the bed, "Sorry." He quirked a brow at Dean and shook his head, "We won't even get into how wrong you are," he gave a harsh small chuckle, shaking his head. "We're a mess aren't we? Wanting the impossible."

"Yeah we are, and we won't be getting into how wrong you are," he answered, pointedly. Impossibility was a state of mind. He knew it, in his gut, he knew if Sam broke down, they could have everything they both needed. He wasn't as savage as he thought he was, Dean knew it, why couldn't Sam know it too?

Sam shook his head with a soft huff. His father's words playing back in his mind, _Not a very bright hunter, is he?_   
'Dad, you have _no_ idea.' Sam looked up at Dean and licked his lips. "You'd kinda look funny in a suit made of that metal from your basement," he muttered pulling to his feet.

Glaring at him and shaking his head, Dean headed for the stairs without a backwards look. This part of the routine, they had down.

* * *

Sam stood, jaw clenched, back pressed up against the lockers so hard if he were human, he'd be hurting himself, have bruises, maybe even a few cuts from the sharp edges. His eyes riveted to the scene before him, Dean with his arm around girl after girl as they went by, walking to class. He could hear them flirting with him, hear him flirting back. Hear them offering him 'a good time'. Sam grit his teeth, a deep growl working its way out of him. His attention so focused on Dean, he didn't see anyone walk up to him, until he heard her voice. 

"At it again, huh?" Alice asked him with a sigh. 

Sam nodded then shrugged a shoulder, "He hasn't accepted any invitations, but, he's still flirting outrageously, like some kind of manwhore." 

He heard Alice cluck her tongue and tore his gaze away from Dean to look down at her quirking a brow. 

"It's an improvement," she offered. 

Sam pressed his lips together and turned his head, looking back at Dean. "He told me he loved me." 

Alice looked up at her brother, eyes wide, "He _did_!?" 

Sam nodded, "Well, later, in the yard he claimed he never said it. Said love wasn't for him, but he said it alright. When I first got there. When he was still asleep." 

Alice quirked a brow, "He talks in his sleep?" 

"Apparently." 

"Do you believe it?" she asked him, making Sam look away from Dean again, down at her. "That he loves you?" 

Sam shook his head, looking back, "I don't know," he answered softly watching Dean for a few more moments as he thought about it. Dean _did_ put up with him, with a vampire. For any human that was big, for a hunter, it was huge. He called... sometimes. Asked him to hunt with him.... normally. Wanted to have sex with him.... well, who didn't he want to have sex with? 

Sam sighed, "Yeah, I guess so. Maybe." Sam relented, as he turned his head to look back at his sister, "He just doesn't show it well." He looked back, just as a big busted blonde walked up to Dean and he hooked an arm around her waist, pulling her in close. Sam's jaw clenched, "Not well at all." 

Their attention was pulled away from Dean as a handful of students from the Glee-Club started stapling up posters all over the walls. Sam frowned, huffing softly. A dance. Great. Wonderful. His gaze went back to Dean. He'd likely get one of these bimbos to go with him, and after... Sam didn't even want to think about that. With a growl, he snatched up his backpack, storming off, leaving Alice to stand there staring at his back as he disappeared down the hall.

A few minutes later, Dean saw he was being watched by one of the Cullens. No surprise there. Detangling himself from the girls and half promising to be at the dance, he walked straight toward Alice, stopping only after he was in her space. "Come to thank me?"

Alice raised a prefect brow as she leaned back slightly away from Dean. "Thank you for what? Being a jerk to my brother?"

"No, for improving your sex life," he smirked. It was hard not to, knowing he turned Sam on, and Sam's feelings forced Jasper to get turned on. "You know, some couples go to counseling to get what you're getting from me for free."

She tilted her head, "And what would that be, Dean? What could you possibly be doing that would improve _my_ sex life?"

"You don't wanna talk about it. I understand. It's alright," smiling, he patted her arm. "So what can I do for you? I mean, assuming you really aren't here to thank me."

She narrowed her eyes at him, glancing down at the hand that patted her arm, before her golden gaze returned to his. She shook her head, "You know something, Dean? I was going to tell you that you should be careful around my brother. Try to warn you that you're playing with fire," she smirked slightly, "But, I've decided not to waste my breath. It must be horrible..." she sighed, "to be such a small, insecure person that you have to do what you do, even when you already have someone who loves you. Who would die for you." She got ready to walk away, only to pause and nod toward the plethora of girls slowly dissipating, "Would they?"

He turned to see she was looking at the girls, then back at her as he understood what she was trying to say. "Thing of it is, I don't want anyone who would die for me. Just because every little Cullen comes in a matching set, doesn't mean the rest of the world is like that. Why can't you people get that? You're hundreds of years old, you should know better."

"Should know better than what Dean? Than to love and be in love? Than to find and have a mate for life? Yeah, you're right, we're horrible. Sounds to me like _you_ could stand to learn a thing or two from a Cullen."

"No, Goddamnit. You should know better than to think everyone is just like you. That everyone has a 'love setting'. It's not the only way to live, but you act like it is." He thought back again on his parents. Yeah, it had been a good time. A great time even, until mom had gone. And then dad has slid off the side of some cliff and never come back completely whole. 

She shook her head as she looked at him, seeing a deep sorrow in his brilliant green eyes. Pity in her golden gaze she spoke softly, "I would say that I feel sorry for you...but I think I feel worse for my brother." With that she walked away.

He stared at her slender back for a long moment and then turned around to rejoin the other students. He wasn't gonna worry about this. He'd explained over and over, to Sam, to them. If they didn't get it... there was nothing he could do about it.

* * *

Sitting at the bar and on his second beer, make that third since he'd snagged Sam's untouched one earlier, he leaned toward the vampire. "You understand what I'm saying, right? Bar fight... brawl, you don't go for the kill. It's just a fight, can be fun." He shook his head at the stubborn look that crossed Sam's face. "I'm not kidding Sam. That guy there, he's asking for it, and I'm about to give it to him... but you either stay out of it, or you know... punch lightly when his pals jump in." 

Sam narrowed his eyes at Dean, "You know I'm not going to stay out of it. They touch you and I'll tear them in half."

Dean groaned. "You're gonna ruin everything. Sam," he clamped his hand on Sam's shoulder. "I'm starting a fight... for fun, alright. It's not a 'kill or be killed' thing. It's more of a 'let's see who's got the bigger dick' thing."

Sam quirked a brow, "You're going to start a fight... hit them?" he pressed his lips together and glanced down at Dean's lap then back into his eyes, "then show them your dick?"

"No, no, no..." he slashed his hands through the air in a frustrated motion geared to shut Sam up before he went further with that line of thought. "Sam." He spoke through gritted teeth. "It's like... like when you fight Emmett... alright? It's not like you're killing an enemy. You're just trying to show him who's got the bigger set of balls, right?" He looked at him. "Just trust me on this. Sit, don't do anything... and it'll be fine."

Sam listened, lips pressed together in a straight line of disapproval. Sure he and Emmett wrestled, but he knew Emmett, Emmett was his brother and no matter how hard they fought, neither of them were going to get hurt or walk away bloody. He shook his head, jaw clenched, "Not the same. Emmett and I can't hurt each other. If you bleed...." he didn't finish the sentence. Dean should know he _would_ either go all vampy or else kill the bastard who did it.

Dean stood up. "You mess this up for me, and I am _not_ taking you bar crawling again, ever," he pointed at Sam's chest and walked away. He'd gotten bloody on plenty of hunts, and Sam would just have to suck it up as he always did or else there was no point in even trying to hang out outside the 'safety' of his room or school.

A few minutes later, Dean was up close and personal... in-the-face... of the big, burly truck driver type that had gotten on his nerves. It didn't take long for his sarcasm to needle the guy into throwing the first bunch. "Bring it," Dean shouted, making a rude gesture and letting his fists fly. 

The guy's meaty fist connected with his jaw. Dean stood back, cupping his own jaw and opening and closing his mouth for a second, before launching into him again. The bar was in an uproar, and the man's friends jumped up to get involved. 

Sam sat with his jaw clenched, eyes narrowed as he watched Dean annoy the hell out of the trucker. Actually, Sam could understand why the guy decked him, Dean was being an ass, but when the guy's friends got involved, Sam stood up. One on one, he could handle, he might not like it, might disapprove, but he could handle it. However Five on one, was another story. 

Sam stepped up, grabbing the first guy he got to by the shoulder, spinning him around to face him as he pulled back a fist and let it fly. Remembering belatedly that Dean had said to punch _softly_. Well, the guy wouldn't die from a shattered jaw.

Dean tasted blood from the corner of his mouth... what else was new? It made him fight just that much harder, and when he saw Sam had joined in, he grinned. "Are you having fun yet?" Sam looked so damned pissy, there wasn't a doubt in Dean's mind that the vampire was _not_ having a good time.

Sam's eyes slid to Dean after he had punched yet another man in the face, and shot him a dirty look. Fun? _This_ was his idea of fun? Dean seriously needed to get out more. 

One of the men made the mistake of grabbing Sam from behind as though to pin his arms to his sides as his buddy prepared to punch him. Sam looked over at Dean, the look on his face was enough to let Dean know that the _only_ reason the guy behind him was still breathing was because Dean had asked him to be gentle. Instead he kicked the guy in front of him, sending him flying across the room, then turned in the other mans arms tossing him away like he was a rag doll. "Remind me again, _why_ exactly this is fun." Sam told Dean as they stood near one another in the midst of fighting.

"It's like the old west... you gotta watch more t.v.," Dean blocked a fist from reaching him, though he had less luck with the second guy who aimed at his gut. As he struck back, he saw the line of security starting to flood into the bar from the back entrance. "Okay, here's the part where we make a run for it. On three," he said, but started to bowl people over on 'two,' shoving some of them back, and tossing punches at any who either tried to keep him in the bar or to engage him.

Outside, they ran down the sidewalk, feet pounding into concrete. Surprisingly, they were followed. That hadn't been part of the plan at all. Without a by your leave, Dean jumped onto Sam's back, "here's the part where you get to play hero. Car. Now," he said, turning and giving the middle finger to the guys chasing them.

Sam gave him a nod, "Hold on....tight," he answered before taking off, a blur to human eyes. He hadn't counted on being able to feel so much of Dean, of being overly aware of the warmth of his body pressed against his back, his groin against his lower back, the press of his cock. If Sam hadn't occupied himself with running, he would likely have done something completely different... something he wasn't at all sure Dean was ready for, as much as he claimed to be.

The rush of wind against his face was enough to take Dean's breath away. He hadn't really known what to expect. Yeah, he'd seen Sam and the other Cullens run on the field, but experiencing it first hand was something else. Sam got him to his car three large blocks away in what seemed like the blink of an eye. 

Dropping down off his back, but one hand still around Sam's shoulder, he pulled him close in a half hug. "Best damned ride of my life, Sam, and that's saying something," he grinned, exhaling a deep breath. "Now tell me... wasn't that fun?"

Sam frowed at Dean as he reached out to wipe a small smear of blood off Dean's lip with a thumb, "No." it was all he said, before he turned and walked around to the other side of the car, trying to get away from the scent of Dean's blood. It might be a small amount, but it might as well have been a bucket load for all Sam could smell it. He fought against the darkness, against his bloodlust, against, 'Vamping out'. His eyes had only darkened a shade and he thought he was doing fairly well... until they both got into the car and in the small enclosed space, the scent of Dean's blood washed over him anew making Sam press against the door, as far away from Dean as he could possibly get, eyes wide as he looked out the side window, trying _not_ to breathe.

"Sam?" Seeing his passenger's stiff stance, Dean let out a sigh. "Alright, not taking you to bars. Didn't figure you'd hate it that bad," he shrugged. "Look, don't be mad at me over this, alright? I told you what to expect."

Sam shook his head stiffly, "I should have taken my own car... like the hunts." he closed his eyes, stifled a groan before he opened them, "you're bleeding."

"Not." He licked the corner of his mouth, it was very little. "Dammit," his grip tightened on his steering wheel. "Kissing's out of the question, then," he muttered the question, knowing the answer as he pulled away from the sidewalk. Drinking and fighting got him hot and horny and he'd thought maybe they could at least blow off a little steam with some tongue action.

Sam huffed, "Not unless you don't mind my sinking my fangs into your tongue."

"Ooh tongue piercing, damn... you really are kinky. I don't know about wearing silver on my tongue though... not really me, and the klinking sounds might give me away on a hunt." Half grinning and half irritated, he stepped on the gas pedal and headed back towards Forks.

Sam's head turned quickly to glare over at him. He sat, staring at Dean thoughtfully for a moment, before the corner of his lip curled upward into a half smirk. "Where are you bleeding _from_ exactly? Lip or mouth?" He hadn't gotten close enough to really look.

"Right here," he turned slightly and touched his tongue to the corner of his mouth. "But it's not bleeding anymore. Just a small cut. Why? You want to have a wet dream about it?"

Sam quirked a brow. "Actually, I was thinking of making you gargle _my_ blood to heal it." He smirked, "then we don't have to worry, do we?"

Slamming the brakes in reaction and pulling the car to the shoulder, a much paler Dean was looking at Sam. "Dude, you did _not_ just say that." The image of his teeth reddened with Sam's blood had him making a face. "You're... you're damned lucky I didn't drink much, or you'd be wearing it right now."

Sam shrugged a shoulder, "It's not that bad," he smirked, "and then we could kiss." He quirked a brow, "Isn't that worth a little blood in your mouth?" he was smirking as he waited for Dean's answer. He'd come to figure Dean out a little bit, dangling sex, or things that lead to sex in front of Dean, was like dangling blood in front of Sam. Now he'd see how strong Dean was, how able to deny, to hold back, to resist.

Was he serious? Dean searched Sam's face, then pressed his lips into a straight line. "How much? How much kissing," he clarified, knowing a dab of blood would do it, and he wouldn't even need to taste.

Sam smirked wider, "How much blood are you willing to take?" he shrugged a shoulder, "I mean, we need to be sure I can't taste _your_ blood at all, you know."

"Stop messing around. What are we talking here? Enough to cover..." he pointed at the wound with his tongue, "and how much sex?"

Sam narrowed his eyes, "You _know_ I can't have sex with you, Dean." he huffed and shook is head, "What is it with you? You have a fucking death wish!? I have sex with you, I _drain_ you!"

"I meant the usual _almost sex_. Never mind." Looking into the mirror, he pulled the car back out onto the highway. Why was it that talk of sex always got them into a fight? "Sorry I'm not asexual or a fucking eunuch," he muttered under his breath.

"You think I am?" Sam huffed, his head turned, looking back out the side window.

Dean didn't answer him. These arguments were always a dead end, always. Scrubbing his hand over his face, he tried to hang on to the high he'd felt when they'd left the bar. It was hard though, Sam's moods affected him far too much. That and the thought of another night with no one to hang onto, when he really really wanted... His gaze strayed to the man in his passenger seat, or rather the back of his head. Yeah, dream on Dean... just dream on.

Neither spoke for a long time. Sam couldn't understand why it was such a hard concept for Dean. His not being able to make love with him; oh, sorry, 'fuck', as Dean would say. Sam huffed softly, as he continued to stare out the window. 

They were entering Forks when Sam finally decided to turn and look at Dean again. One thing that he had been meaning to ask resurfacing in his mind, "Hey, Dean, are you, um," he paused, half not even wanting to hear the answer, "are you going to the dance?"

There was another brief silence, then Dean glanced over at him with a nod. "I'll probably be there for a while. Can't miss out on that school punch," he made a face. Yeah, he'd told a couple of people he'd be there, so he would. "You?" Cullens never socialized with other students at events, he already knew the answer, or should.

Sam's eyes slowly narrowed into dangerous slits, "Figures." he kicked the floorboard, _softly_ , but enough to show he was pissed, as he slid down in the seat, crossing his arms over his chest, jaw clenched, muscle twitching as he stared straight ahead.

"Guess that's a 'no.'" At the last minute, Dean made a turn, his tires squealing as he headed up the road that lead to the Cullens. He wasn't gonna let the rest of his night go down in flames just because Sam was having one of his mood swings, dammit. 

"What's her name?" Sam asked between clenched teeth, hands clenching into fists, arms still crossed over his chest. Slowly he turned angry golden hazel eyes to Dean, glaring daggers at him.

Parking near the Cullen residence, but not too close, Dean turned to Sam. "Whose?" Seeing Sam's hard expression, he wondered what the fuck had gone wrong now. He wasn't bleeding. He sure as heck hadn't offered him sex again. In fact he'd kept his trap shut hoping to avoid another fight. "I dunno what's wrong now, but you need to take a chill pill."

Sam huffed, "The fucking whore you're going to the dance with!" he practically yelled at him, before reaching for the door handle. He opened the car door and exited the car without waiting for Dean's answer. Standing with his hand on the outside of the car, Sam leaned down, looking at Dean inside, "You know, one day, I might not be here for you to treat like shit! Then what the fuck will you do? Drown puppies!?" he slammed the car door so hard that the entire car shook with the force of it. 

Sam stepped toward his yard, stopping in front of a giant oak. He wrapped his arms around the trunk and with a growl of rage, ripped the tree out of the ground, roots and all, then proceeded to toss it, before continuing toward his house, hands clenched into fists at his sides.

Sitting leaning back and taking deeper breaths than usual, Dean watched Sam storm away, leaving destruction in his path. What the hell... just what the fuck?! Even if he had been taking a girl, this... this was a serious over reaction. Just like the day with the lockers slamming, when a part of him had wondered if the school was gonna come crumbling down. Did they really need another talk over this? Starting the car, he backed out, then turned the car around and roared off.


	12. Chapter 12

_Drinking at the bar, brawling. Fighting about kisses and sex. The threat of healing his mouth with Sam's blood. Sex. Sex that never happened. Sam killing a tree over fucking nothing. How quiet it was in the room without someone to exchange some last words with before falling asleep._ By the time Dean fell asleep, laying on his stomach with the edge of his pillow grasped tightly in his fist, his mind was a whirl of thoughts and images.

*  
[Dream]

Dean was sitting at a dingy bar, nursing a whiskey he wouldn't drink. What he really wanted w... He bit his lip hard, hoping the pain would dull his desire. He wasn't one for symphonies, or the high arts. But he'd seen a poster of a boy playing the piano, and he hadn't missed his concerts ever since. He'd even gotten into a damned suit to go to the concert hall and paid good money for a great seat. 

Then he'd watched and gotten lost not only in the music, but in the eyes of one Sam Cullen. Dean had never seen such perfection. Now he knew what people meant when they said someone was 'poetry in motion.' Sam was all that and more. Whenever he watched, his hands would grip the arms of the chair, threatening to break it. It took everything he had to keep from getting on that stage and dragging Sam away, telling all his admirers to fuck the hell off. That he was his, and only his.

Right. Like Sam would give him a second look if he knew him for real. Dean had already shucked his suit and gotten into comfortable and slightly torn jeans, a tee and an over shirt. Sam Cullen wouldn't be caught dead standing next to someone like him. Not to mention the whole vampire thing. Nah, people like Sam Cullen went to parties, sipped champagne and waltzed the night. And they'd never... ever hide during the day.

Dipping his head down, Dean sniffed the liquor. Too bad it didn't taste as good as it smelled. And what was even worse was there was nothing that could dull his desire, his thoughts, his complete obsession. Nothing.

Sam walked into the dingy bar, his hand was still on the door when he spotted him. He'd seen him at enough of his concerts to recognize him on sight now. His mysterious fan, the one who seemed to always be wherever he played, always sat upfront, would stare at him throughout the entire concert as though mesmerized...and always with that deep hunger in his gaze, the one that made the hair on the back of Sam's neck stand on end at the same time as it sent a thrill though out his system. 

Releasing the door, he slowly, quietly made his way over to the stool beside the man's. Careful not to sit on the tails of his tuxedo Sam looked over at the man from the corner of his eye, licked his lips. "So," he spoke softly, turning his head toward the man beside him, "did you enjoy the concert?"

If he'd had a heart, it would have stopped right now. The vampire's fingers closed more tightly around the glass, threatening to shatter it. "What makes you think I was there?" he asked, almost afraid to look at him up close. His scent was already overpowering... more tantalizing than he'd ever imagined from a distance.

Sam frowned in confusion, "I," he pressed his lips together, shook his head, looking away, "I must have been mistaken. I apologize." Sam knew better, he knew it was him. He'd know him anywhere. 

The bartender came over and Sam ordered a glass of champagne then looked back at the man, held out his hand. "I'm Sam Cullen, I'm sorry about before." he smiled, dimples showing, "Must be the lights up there on the stage."

Dean had been afraid Sam was gonna leave. Now he was equally afraid he was going to stay. He shook hands, sharply aware of the pulse that throbbed under his index finger which he’d extended over Sam's wrist. "Dean Winchester." It almost hurt to have the full force of Sam's attention on himself. "No. I was there. I just... there were so many people, I didn't think you could distinguish from the stage." Dean was pretty sure this wasn't the type of place Sam Cullen was in the habit of going to. "You know, the concert hall's bar is on the 23rd floor."

Sam's smile widened, flashing straight white teeth as his face flushed a soft shade of pink, "Yeah, I know, but fans..." he shrugged, "I'm kinda shy."

Dean gave a stiff shake of his head. He'd best stop acting like a damned fanboy then. "So you come to places like this, to escape places like that, but you're dressed like ..." his gaze traveled down the length of Sam's snow white shirt, to the cummerbund that emphasized the slenderness of his waist compared to the breadth of his chest and shoulders, and went back up to bow tie at his neck, before meeting his eyes again. _I want to wrinkle you up._ God, why did he always want the impossible? 

"Yeah, well, I didn't bring a change of clothes and I live across town." Sam licked his lips, sipping from the glass the bartender gave him before speaking again, "what about you? Are you... from around here?"

"Nah, I'm just..." Where were the lies that were usually at the tip of his tongue? "Passing through. You live here? Must feel good to play your hometown, better than traveling around, I mean." 

Sam nodded, "I miss my family when I travel. My sister usually tries to go with me, but," he shrugged, "she has her own life, ya know? What about you? You married?"

"Married? No," he shook his head. "That's for the straight guys," he threw out. He was getting a vibe but when it came to Sam, after all those days and nights of wishing, and wanting, he couldn't trust his instincts. "You?" He knew Sam didn't wear a ring, but he'd always left the concerts before there was a chance of seeing some woman with her arm around his waist or vice versa. He didn't think he could stand the sight.

Sam shook his head as he swallowed a rather large gulp of champagne on hearing that his rather incredibly handsome fan was gay. He was pretty sure he hadn't misread those looks now, it made Sam have to fight to hide thrill that ran through him from showing. It shouldn't be exciting him so much to hear that a complete stranger, one who looked at him like he wanted to eat him, was of the mind to actually _do_ just that. 

"I, um," he smiled wider, gave a half laugh, "I'm not really into girls much either. I'm open, but... never found one that interested me. Sadly, I think I like my piano better than anyone." he cleared his throat as he raised a fisted hand to his mouth. What the hell was he doing? He'd almost told this guy, this Dean Winchester that he was a virgin.

Dean gave him a steady look, and noted the slight quickening of Sam's heartbeats. "What about guys?" His voice dropped down an octave. "When you say you're open, do you mean to guys?" No, he wasn't mincing his words here. He needed to know. 

Sam opened his mouth as he looked into hungry golden green eyes, only to snap it closed again, lick his lips. He chugged down the rest of his champagne, motioned for another one and waited as the bartender brought it over, slamming back half the contents of the glass before he nodded, "Yeah" he told him softly before reaching for the small cocktail napkin and dabbing his mouth with it. He crumpled the napkin in his hand, dropping it onto the bar top, before his eyes met Dean's once more. "But, with my schedule," he shrugged, his smile returning, "not like I date or anything."

"So quickies in dark corners and places like this." Instinctively, Dean knew this... it wasn't the norm for Sam Cullen. The way he was drinking down that champagne like it was water told him the guy was nervous. The change in his scent told him he was interested. Damn his senses. Damn the fact that his teeth were so sensitive at the moment, or that he was listening for heartbeats, and the rush of blood. That he was imagining taking Sam's clothes off... touching him all over... making him groan his name. Leaning in, close to Sam's ear, he said, "Is that what you're here for?"

Sam stilled, stiffened, eyes widening. What he was here for? He swallowed hard, licked his lips. Why exactly _was_ he here. He hadn't lied about the fans, but he knew how to dodge them. He'd seen Dean come in here, had watched him through the crowd, had looked out the large floor to ceiling windows of the concert hall and had been unable to keep from following. "I, uh," Sam drew away slightly, wide hazel eyes looking into golden green, "no, I mean, I never, I mean... I'm not like that." He quickly downed the rest of his champagne, "I'm sorry." He was going to leave, he _needed_ to leave. As excited as he was, Dean Winchester scared the hell out of him.

He should be happy that Sam was pulling back, that he was afraid, that he wasn't going for it. And yet every cell in his body was screaming for a taste of him, making him crazy with need, egging him into talking the guy out of leaving. No goddamnit. If he wanted to walk away, then Dean should let him. Still...

"Not as sorry as I am." Dean stood and started to brush past Sam, their bodies coming together for a brief moment as he leaned in. "If you change your mind about spending another night with your piano, I'll be in the parking lot for the next five minutes." 

Sam gasped when their bodies collided, jaw clenched, muscle twitching as he thought about the invitation, hazel eyes following after Dean as he walked out. He paid his bill, palms flat against the bar top, he hung his head, closed his eyes. He might be crazy, but he hadn't been able to get this guy out of his mind, he couldn't let him just walk away, even if it scared the hell out of him.

Pushing away from the bar, Sam followed Dean out the door and around to the parking lot. Dress shoes made soft clip clop sounds against the asphalt as he walked, hands stuffed into the pockets of his dress pants, head bowed. He wasn't sure what he was doing, what he was thinking, or going to do. He was a friggin virgin meeting some near stranger in a dark parking lot. How screwed up was that?

Dean waited in the shadows until Sam walked far enough into the lot that he knew he was committed. "You came." He pushed away from the wall, slightly behind Sam as he stepped under one of the streetlights in the lot. "Are you drunk? Tipsy?" he asked, wanting to be sure that if Sam did this, it was his decision. Why he wanted... needed to be honest with him was beyond Dean, whose life was filled with lies and fake names.

Sam turned on his heels, hands pulling from his pockets in the process. His heart did a small somersault now that he was face to face with Dean again. "I," he frowned, shook his head, "a little light headed maybe, but not drunk, why?"

"Just wanna be sure I'm not taking advantage of you or anything...," Dean gave a grin and walked closer, putting his hands out and resting them on Sam's hips, sucking his breath in at the sound of Sam's heart lurching again. "You know...when I kiss you. You gonna let me kiss you, Sam Cullen?" His voice was low and persuasive.

Sam gasped through slightly parted lips as Dean laid his hands on his hips. Such a simple thing really, it shouldn't be affecting him this way. He might be a virgin, but it wasn't like he hadn't made out before. He nodded, "Yeah, I am." He leaned in halfway then, letting Dean come the other half, to meet him in the middle.

Without moving his hands, but using them to pull Sam close, Dean slanted his mouth over Sam's. His eyes closed as he kissed him lightly at first, trying to get used to being this close, trying to make sure he could fight his darker needs even as he gave in to the power of this man's attraction. Soft lips… bet Sam's hands were just as soft. He tasted a bit sweet, a bit tart, like the champagne. He could tell Sam was trying to get used to this too, that he hadn't done this. God... if a chaste kiss like this could have Dean tied up on the insides what would happen when they...

He pulled back slightly, lips burning, aching for more. "Will you open for me?" His gaze dropped to Sam's reddened mouth.

Heavy lidded eyes looked into Dean's as Sam licked his lips, sucked his bottom lip into his mouth, "Huh? Open...?" Sam noticed where Dean was looking then, at his mouth, and his face instantly flushed a soft shade of crimson. "I - I've never," he bit his lip, straight white teeth pressing against the pink tender flesh as he nodded, "I can try."

"Trust me, you're doing fine," he answered, pulling Sam close and dipping his head to bring their mouths together . This time he flicked the tip of his tongue across the seam of Sam's lips, then pushed inside. Time stood still. His world seemed to tilt... and he wasn't the virgin here. Groaning softly as he struggled against the need to crush their mouths together harder, Dean stroked his tongue over Sam's, teasing him, showing him how to curl his tongue and move with him. 

One moment he was the teacher, the next he was lost in the kiss. Their tongues danced like they'd been doing this forever, like they belonged together. Dean slid his hand over Sam's ass, mentally cursing the length of his jacket as he groped and pulled Sam up hard against his frame.

Sam's arms wrapped around Dean, clinging to him, hands running over his back, gripping him tight. He found himself achingly hard already needing, wanting more. His hands groped Dean's frame, running over him, cupping his ass, even as he whimpered softly into the kiss. His hands went to Dean's hair, fingers threading through the short soft silky stands, before moving again to wrap around him. "Not out here, where people can see," he whispered breathlessly between kisses, "car, alley, motel, I don't care."

"Alley. I want you out in the open," he answered, rubbing his arousal against Sam's, and walking him backwards, using his body to control Sam’s movements, to guide him toward the alley. They were in pitch black, then under a street light, then in pitch black again. Dean caught glimpses of fear and lust and sweet, sweet innocence, like he'd never seen before, in Sam's expressions. "I like things... a certain way." They were at the entrance to the alley. Moving his hands with lightning speed from Sam's ass to grab his wrists and hold them behind his back, he leaned in and ran his mouth up Sam's chest and throat, bowing him back slightly. "Like this... sometimes I'm the only one who gets to do the touching." He didn't ask, but the question was there.

Sam swallowed, a mixed gasp and moan leaving him before he bit his lip, eyes closing briefly. He was as terrified as he was aroused by this guy, this Dean Winchester. Sam nodded, "Oh - Okay." His voice trembled slightly, mixed emotions raging through him. 

_I won't hurt you._ The words were at the tip of Dean's tongue, but he wasn't going to lie. Intentions weren't always the same as actions. "Good. And Sam, when I tell you 'don't move,' you don't move." Dean leaned in and sucked Sam’s tempting lower lip with all the gentleness he could muster. "I'll be careful with you," he promised. 

_Careful with me?_ that had Sam swallowing hard again and feeling unsure. Eyes wide and skittish he looked around them as he was walked backward into the alley.

Crates were stacked on crates, and music wafted through closed doors. A chain link fence ran the length of the alley. Dean pushed Sam's back up against the fence, then started to tug his jacket off. "Can't wait to get you all mussed and wrinkled," he said, his voice as deep and raspy as it could get. "Every night... every performance, it's what I imagine. To the sound of that song you play, the one that sounds like thunder and lightning... like a storm crashing down." He knew he was saying it all wrong. What Sam played weren't songs. They had fancy long names, ones he couldn't keep straight.

Sam's fingers slipped through the fencing as he gripped it, held on, his eyes never leaving Dean. His chest rose and fell heavily with each breath. Fear mixed with his excitement, his arousal was a rush unlike anything Sam had ever known. He tried to concentrate. "Concerto," he opened his mouth to ask if he meant the requiem, but closed it without saying anything more.

Dean nodded. "Your heart's playing a beautiful one for me right now." The tuxedo jacket he’d stuffed through a link in the fence fell to the ground. He ran his hands over Sam's snow white shirt, biting his lip as his palms moved over taut muscles, tightening and shivering in reaction to his touch. As he started to undo the bow tie, he met Sam's eyes. "You're beautiful. Like your music." He let the black material dangle on either side of Sam's collar and started to undo his shirt, swaying closer to kiss him.

Sam met him, crushing his lips to Dean's, giving himself something else to think about other than the fear that kept creeping along his spine. He pushed his tongue into Dean's mouth, tangling it with Dean's, caressing him from the inside. His tongue ran along the roof of Dean's mouth, over his teeth. Sam jumped slightly when his tongue met something sharp. He pulled his lips away from Dean's, "Sharp teeth you have there," he gave a breathless chuckle as he leaned his head down more, kissing along Dean's neck, his jaw. Pulling his hands away from the fence, Sam started to push and tug at Dean's clothes, his hands searching out his skin underneath.

He'd been using his own tongue to buffer Sam's, but his control had slipped and Sam had almost cut himself. That shock had Dean standing stock still for a moment as Sam had his way with him, touching him under his clothes and kissing him so fucking sweet and so hot... a combination he'd never thought of. He shrugged out of his shirt, but kept the tee shirt on, enjoying Sam's frustration with the material.

"Forgot to warn you about that. Vampire teeth," he nodded, taking two small steps forward, pushing his fingers through the link fence high on either side of Sam's shoulders, and pressing into him so hard, the fence bubbled outward. "Two minutes. You have two minutes to do whatever you want, then it's my turn," he said, his throat raw, his body hard, and his cock pulsing with need.

Sam stared at the guy in front of him, his breaths panting out. _Vampire teeth?_ He licked his lips and decided he'd heard him wrong, or maybe the guy was one of those goth's that had their dentist do vampire fang veneers. That had to be it. "Vampire, huh?" he gave a nervous chuckle, "kinky," he muttered and reached for Dean, pushing up on his tee, his hands moving up then down over his ass, pulling him closer.

"You have no idea," was Dean's only response as every muscle in his body tensed and flexed while Sam explored his abs, his back, and even wandered to his ass. It took everything he had to stop himself from taking control, from pushing Sam's hands away, from kissing him hard as he brought their bodies into harder contact. From pressing his teeth into soft skin... a wave of warm pleasure flooded Dean's system at the thought.

Sam pulled his hands back around to the fastening of Dean's jeans and started fumbling with the button and zipper, hands shaking slightly before he got them unfastened and slid a hand down, under Dean's boxers, cupping him, his other hand holding Dean's hip. Sam's own breath left him in a rush, feeling how hard and big Dean was. The idea of doing this here, suddenly seemed very poorly thought out. He swallowed, as he shook his head, "I've never.... I don't think I can take..." he blushed a hot shade of bright red.

A strangled cry broke from Dean as those long fingers and soft but large hand closing around his dick. He nudged his hips, eyes locking with Sam's. He had trouble reconciling the way Sam was touching him with the blush staining his cheeks and the uncertainty in his eyes. "Me? You don't think you can take me?" He smiled, "that's the nicest thing anyone's said to me in a while." 

Dean was quiet for a moment, then he broke the silence. "Two minutes are up." Unerringly finding Sam's wrists, he pulled them up and out on either side of his body. "Fingers through the fence, don't let go for anything." He felt a shudder go through Sam, and saw his lower lips tremble. Opening his shirt up completely, he gripped handfuls of the material and pulled Sam toward him, whispering against his ear, "you've got nothing to worry about, baby, I'll make us fit and you'll like it." 

Sam bit his lip as uncertain, hazel eyes looked at Dean.

It was as if the floodgates opened, the concerto started inside his head. Swooping down, Dean kissed Sam's throat, forcing the _music_ to drown out the sound of rushing blood. He kissed Sam's chest, dragging his front teeth over his smooth skin, then licking away any pain he'd caused. "God, you're so fucking hot." He shoved the silky material up and down Sam's body, watching it wrinkle, and moving his mouth over bare skin, lower and lower. He sucked on Sam's belly, hard, and moved lower, dragging his dress pants and briefs down in one motion. 

Sam's head tilted back at the feel of Dean's mouth on his neck, a low moan escaping him. He gasped in a breath, muscles rippling, trembling beneath Dean's touch as he dragged his teeth over Sam's skin. Sam looked down, watching Dean, his breaths panting out, chest rising and falling with each breath. A deep groan sounded in his throat as Dean sucked hard on his stomach, the fence shaking behind him slightly as Sam adjusted his grip, held on tighter. When Dean dragged his pants and briefs away, the night air felt cool on his passion fevered skin. Sam shifted his weight, tried to take a step back as he looked down at Dean, at the raw hunger on his face, but the fence prevented him from going anywhere. 

Sam gasped, writhed, as Dean's tongue ran along the length of his hard shaft, a small whimper left him as Dean pulled back. "Please..." Sam made the mistake of letting go of the fence and reaching for Dean. That's when he heard it, what sounded like a warning growl erupting from Dean.

Sam quickly reached back and grabbed the fence again, as he shook his head, "I - I don't..." he bit his lip, squeezed his eyes closed and tried to calm himself a little. He wasn't sure if he was excited and scared or scared that he was excited or so scared he was excited, all he did know was that the two had somehow weaved and blended together to work him up into a frenzy. But after that growl... what kind of a person _growls_ like that? Sam opened his eyes, "I don't think this is a good idea."

Dean pulled his had back and looked up, eyes darkening with displeasure. "You don't think this is a good idea?" Anger started to replace some of his lust, but he kept it under tight control. "Is this your game? You pick up guys... then leave them hard? That how you get off?" His jaw ached with the building tension. Leaning in, he moved his mouth and tongue over Sam's leaking cock, squeezing his balls, literally listening to his body's hints at what he liked ... what drove him up the wall with need, and was satisfied only when Sam’s cock was rock hard. 

Sam's eyes widened at Dean's accusations. He shook his head, "No! I've never..." Sam words halted as Dean moved his mouth over his cock. Oh God... felt so good... fuck! Sam was arching into Dean's touch after a few moments, low groans and whimpers escaping him, his eyes closed, lips parted as his breaths panted out.

Dean stood up, and put his hand on the side of Sam's face, leaning in as if to kiss him, but pulling back before their mouths touched. "Go unwind with your piano. Go on," he stepped back and started to straighten his own clothes, eyes filled with heat as he watched Sam practically hanging limply off the fence.

Sam opened his eyes, waited for the kiss that never came, he stared at Dean stunned that he was stopping. That he was _angry_. Didn't he understand that he had scared the hell out of him? His body ached for release as he clung to the fence behind him, unable to move. Sam shook his head, "I didn't mean..." he swallowed, tried again, "you scared me, okay? I mean, you fucking growled at me. What the hell? Who _growls_?" he sighed, looked up at the sky, then back at Dean, "I didn't mean to piss you off, I'm sorry."

"A vampire," he answered simply, flashing his teeth. The sound of Sam's indrawn breath and the tumble of his heart irritated him. "If I'd wanted to kill you, you'd be dead. You already know what I want." He shrugged, though the effort cost him, even as he drank in the sight of his half naked dream man. It would have been better if Sam had never entered the bar, never given him hope, never let him get a taste. "Go. Before I change my mind."

He knew his eyes were dark, and he was damned well fighting it... fighting the need to impose his will, fighting the need to just take him, take everything he needed. And why not, Sam was only a human, right? But the music and the song in his eyes.... nothing ever touched Dean, not till one very human Sam Cullen.

Sam's fingers slowly slid free of the fence, arms falling to his sides, before he bent and pulled up his pants, righted his clothes as much as were possible in an alley with no mirror, no one to tie his tie for him, make certain his shirt was pressed and perfect. 

Hazel eyes never left Dean as he dressed, his head hanging, he shoved his hands into his pockets and started to walk away. He paused two steps from Dean and looked back, "I'm sorry... truly." he told him with a stiff nod, "My next requiem I'll dedicate to you." He forced a small smile, before turning again to slowly walk away.

"I won't be there," Dean answered just as softly, turning and slamming his closed fist into the fence. Everything he wanted, walking away from him right now. He felt the tears of frustration, and closed his eyes trying to prevent them from leaking out. If he went after him... he wouldn't stop, he knew that.

*

[Reality]

Sam had felt it, male hands on Dean, the tongue in his mouth. Now he wasn't only sleeping around with girls, but with guys? Sam's eye were inky black, hands clenched into fists as he made his way through Dean's window, jaw set, face angry, grim. He was going to kill him. He didn't care who the hell it was with Dean. Dean was HIS. No one else’s. Motherfu--- 

Sam stood just inside the window; Dean's nightstand hovering off the ground, his bed, his bookshelf, he had apparently tried to fix... they shuddered and hovered in the air as well as Sam stood with his eyes closed, trying desperately to rein in his anger, the feelings of hurt and betrayal, the pain in his chest, his broken heart. 

*

[Dean’s Dream]

Sam clung to Dean, arms wrapped around him, his lips pressed to Dean's as their tongues danced. "Want you... I do..." Sam shook his head, "Not leaving. I swear," he told Dean breathlessly between kisses.

"Not leaving," Dean echoed, dragging Sam's shirt half way off his shoulders, and pulling it behind Sam’s back, using it to trap Sam's arms still tangled in the clothes. Holding him like that, bowed back, Dean kissed hard, not holding back this time... letting the fires burn out of control. He pressed his naked body against Sam's, his arousal hot and ready, pulsing against Sam's hip. 

Heat and electricity raged between them. Mouths crushed together, bodies slid and pressed into each other. Dean took it for as long as he could, then he broke the kiss. "Need to be inside you." His eyes clashed only for a second with Sam’s, then he turned him around, releasing the shirt. "Hands on the fence." 

Sam turned, swallowing nervously, fingers threading through the metal fence as he hung onto it. He glanced at Dean over his shoulder, watching him before he turned his head back, bit his lip.

By the time Sam followed his instruction, Dean had him unclothed, lubed and ready to go. Wrapping one arm around Sam's waist, he aligned his cock, groaning in Sam's ear as he started to push and felt the resistance. "Relax... easy."

Everything changed. He was buried deep inside Sam, fucking him hard, his hips snapping back and forth like a piston, like he would never get enough. "So... good, so good Sam," he whispered, closing one hand around Sam's dick and letting him fuck his fist. The sounds they made filled the alley, echoed around them. He knew Sam was embarrassed and trying to keep the sounds down, but Dean wouldn't have it. He did everything he could to give Sam so much pleasure, he couldn't think, couldn't edit, couldn't control himself.

Deam was close to coming, so close... He'd beaten his other desires so far, but they were emerging stronger, sharper now. The need to sink his aching fangs into the side of Sam's neck... it would be so easy, he could make sure Sam never felt it, that his last moments were the best of his life. Then he'd know the taste of Sam's blood, and this sweet torture would be over once and for all.

He stretched forward, pressing his mouth over the pulse beating against Sam's throat and ignoring Sam's attempts to kiss him. He sucked the spot hard, dying to press his fangs down... dying to end the torture. He might have too, if he hadn't realized he loved Sam too much... too much to never see him again, too much to never hear him play the piano, too much to never hear him make these beautiful sounds. If you loved someone, Goddamit, you could fight anything, even yourself if you had to.

That's what Dean did. He listened to Sam's music, let it sweep him away, let it fill his mind and push out everything else as he drove them toward release. In and out, he fucked harder, sucked on soft skin so hard he threatened to break it... but he did it, he never pierced Sam's skin, he hung on as he threw his head back and started to come deep inside his human lover... just the way it should be.

 

*

[Reality]

"Oh God... yeah, Sammy!" Dean squirmed against the mattress, his heart beating out of control. 

Sam's eyes snapped open at the sound of his name, eyes as black as the abyss stared at Dean laying on his bed, at the way the thrashed and squirmed, the sound of his heart beating so hard, the sound alone had Sam's teeth aching. He could smell Dean's arousal, but he realized Dean was alone... and crying out _his_ name. 

Sam stepped closer, some of the angry tension leaving his body, only to be replaced by another kind of tension as he slowly edged toward the bed. Dean was.... _dreaming_!?...of him? Sam's hands clenched and unclenched into fists at his sides. He tried not to breathe. Dean's scent, too strong, too full of sexual promise right now. His eyes dark and dangerous. His teeth ached, the blood pounded in his temples. He fought the overwhelming need to attack Dean in that moment, to possess him, to take everything he ever wanted from him. It would be _so_ easy... 

All at once, everything that had been hovering in the air came crashing down to the floor. Nightstand, bookshelf, bed, everything hit the floor at the same time with a loud =BAM!=.

Dean scrambled off the bed, and raised the gun, cocking and aiming it at the dark figure. As sleep left him, he recognized Sam's silouette and groaned, "Now what did you break?" His heart still hammered a staccato as he got up, sat heavily down on his bed and turned the light on. "Sam... what is this?" he demanded, seeing the mess of wrecked furniture. It was almost enough to take away the afterglow from that intense dream he'd had, Goddamit. First he wasn't getting any in real life. Then Sam was interfering with his dreams! 

Sam never moved, never said a word or made a sound, though dark eyes watched every gesture, every motion, every movement Deam made. Finally, he licked his lips, glancing away from him at the mess, only to return his gaze again to Dean’s, that same look of hunger, of near awe on his face. "I felt you. Thought you were with someone. I came here... and... I heard you say my name."

"And so....." He gestured at the mess again. "You're punishing me for what now?" He was getting frustrated again, and he knew he needed to rein in his temper. Putting the gun away, he looked at Sam for an explanation. "Don't look at me like that, Sam, please don't," he shook his head and looked away. A slow fire still burned inside him and he wouldn't be able to take another attempt at half-way sex, not tonight.

Sam shook his head slowly, eyes still fixed on Dean. "Not punishing you. I was... I told you, I thought you had someone here. I felt male hands, I..." he pressed his lips together, blinking a few times as if coming out of whatever it was that had grabbed hold of him. He raised a hand, ran it through his hair and looked back at Dean. "You were dreaming... about me?"

"Yeah, Sam, I dreamed about you. Then you woke me up." He started to stretch and looked at the clock. "Why me... why?" He scrubbed his face and rolled back into bed, all signs of sleep having left him. He turned his face toward Sam. "You and your blood gargling crack. I dreamed I was a vampire."

Sam quirked a brow, a small smirk pulling at the corner of his lips, "You? A vampire?" he moved to sit on the edge of Dean's bed, "Oh I bet _that_ went over well."

Dean looked at him, and moved back, giving him more room. "How do you mean?"

Sam shrugged, making a small sound in the back of his throat, before moving to lay back on the bed beside Dean, though he kept his distance. "You know, you’trl all about the sex.." Sam shook his head, "You would make a _very_ bad vampire." He chuckled at the look on Dean’s face. "Well, you _would_! Entire villages would be dead at your hands because _you_ couldn't control your bloodlust."

"Ha ha, funny Sam." Course there was no way to contradict him, or show him. "I'd control it just fine, thank you. What makes you think you're so much better at it or that I'd mess up? Oh... cause I wouldn't do the whole virgin thing?" He made a sound of disbelief. "Like there aren't hundreds of vamps... thousands? You aren't a virgin just because of the whole human/vamp hang up of yours." 

Sam sobered. "No, you're right, I'm not. Vampires aren't like that. They find a mate and it's for life. Eternity. It's not like we just.." He searched for a term Dean would understand, "get a divorce."

"Then, baby," he reached out and tugged a piece of Sam's hair, "guess you married me in my dream, ‘cause we went all the way. Oh, but you know that, right? Did you feel my hands on you, all over you? Did you feel how I stripped you and had you against a fence." He wondered if Sam thought about the alley where he'd killed his would-be rapists. Dean wondered if that too had been in his subconscious and made its way into his dream. "Did you feel how I trapped your arms behind your back and kissed you until you needed to take a breath?"

Sam smiled as Dean tugged on his hair, his eyes had started to lighten ... until Dean's next words. Sam's entire body went rigid, as he listened, not moving, not even breathing. He knew his eyes had darkened again, the ache in his teeth was back, the pounding in his temples. He shook his head slightly, "No," he word was soft, breathless. Slowly Sam looked over at Dean, licked his lips, "You should stop." he told him, cleared his throat, and tore his gaze away. "I only felt what you felt. The hands on you, the warmth surrounding your..." he looked over at Dean, his gaze dropped to the crotch of Dean's boxers before returning to his face again. "I could feel a tongue in your mouth, feel how he... I... felt inside, clenching around you. I -" Sam licked his lips and shot out of the bed, standing next to it instead. "I can't... can't talk about this."

Dean looked up, letting out a breath. He really shouldn't be surprised at his now empty bed. "It's four in the morning, Sam, what should we talk about? Huh?" There was a silence. "How about how much I wanted to take your blood? How I could hear your heart, your blood, how I needed to taste it... you did feel that?" He demanded.

Sam grit his teeth, hands curling into tight fists, he squeezed his eyes closed. "Stop it. Stop." He was silent and still for a moment as he fought against the desires, the burning needs inside himself. "I feel it everyday. Why should your dream be any different?" he asked him, his voice whisper soft, strained.

"It was different because I loved you enough to fight it, goddamit!" The words were out before he could stop them. "Because I controlled it. I filled my mind up with other things and we got there... we got there Sam. Not this stupid 'stop and go' thing we have going. Because I _tried_ for you, that's why." 

Sam stared then slowly narrowed his eyes. "I _do_ fucking love you! Why the hell do you think I keep stopping!? Because if I hurt you, if I..." Sam grit his teeth, "if I _killed_ you, IT WOULD KILL ME! I can't just fucking fill up my mind with something else!" he was yelling now, "You think it's that easy? You think I just need to think of something else? Find a..." Sam searched for the term they tossed around now-a-days, "'happy place', and it'll be all better!?" he huffed, jaw clenched, "Well, it won't. _MY_ fucking happy place is with you in my arms, " he faked looking stunned, "oh, wait, wait, THAT’S where we fucking started out with the problem!" he took a swing at the wall, stopping himself before he busted through it.

Dean braced for the sound of shaking walls but let his breath out when Sam's fist stopped short. He hadn't heard Sam yell like this before, it made the adrenalin rush though his system, had him prepared for the worst... if it went there.

"When I am with you, when you excite me, it makes my teeth ache, it makes the blood pound in my temples, you know that, I told you that. I can hear your heart beating, your blood flowing... but I also can think of NOTHING else besides how FUCKING GOOD you would taste! It excites me as much as the thought of having sex with you!" he stood breathing heavily in his anger, "maybe more," he added more quietly. "I live with these feelings, Dean. You only had the curse of _dreaming_ about them. Of course, it was easier for you."

Dean was silent, his heart pounding. Sam's expression had gone dark and forbidding again, and he knew getting into a shouting match wasn't a smart idea. He killed his smart comment about how great it was to know that someone liked his taste over his sexing, or whatever. "You think this is easy for me? It's not easy," he ground out. If he knew a way out, he'd take it goddamnit. He didn't know why he let this go on, whatever it was between them. But he did know some unstoppable force kept him coming back to Sam for more. 

Sam shook his head, "Never said it was easy... for either of us." he told him softly.

Dean thought back to the dream, those feelings...the need to take Sam's blood, his commitment to forcing himself not to take blood... how he'd ached, how he'd clenched his teeth, fought it.... "I did it for you. You could find a way if you weren't self-defeatist. Carlisle loves medicine, he found a way to stand blood." Dragging his gaze from Sam's, he curled up on the bed. He hated this feeling of resentment that sometimes built inside him. It felt like he was gonna explode, and he knew it wasn't all Sam's fault... he knew it... but he couldn't fucking help the way he felt.

Sam grit his teeth, his hands clenching into tight fists, "I _told you_ , it was a DREAM, of course it was easy." he huffed, "And you don't have half the feelings down either, by the way. As for _my father_ , it took YEARS for him to be able to do what he does." he narrowed his eyes at Dean, "Do you have years? Can you wait? You think you can 'not age' for me? Not die? Oh wait, I could have you turned into a vamp, that would solve ALL our problems." He glared at him.

The idea of Sam turning him froze his ready retort. He didn't want to be anything that wasn't human, but Christ... being human and dealing with Sam, that was killing him too. No, of course he didn't want to be a fucking vampire. They couldn't eat, couldn't drink, wasn't that and sex what life was about? He licked his lips and closed his eyes. "Next time I'm getting some from you in a dream, don't you fucking ruin it for me. You got that, Sam... dammit." He could barely remember how good it had been in the dream.

"I didn't... you woke up..." yeah okay, he had made all the things fall. Sam huffed, "I didn't mean to ruin a dream." He nodded, "Dreams are good." he started for the window, "Sorry I woke you. Wasn't my intention." No, his intention had been to kill the sonofabitch who was touching what was his... but he didn't tell Dean that as he started to climb out the window.

Right now, Dean didn't want to hear it. He kept his eyes shut, hoping sleep would come back, hoping he'd dream again. Because no matter what he said, no matter what he did, it was slowly becoming crystal clear that they were _never_ gonna be able to go any farther than they had. He just kept thinking to his dream... that's how it should be, that's how... not this. This hurt. Every day it hurt differently, but it hurt.

* * *

A couple of days passed. Things between them were about the same, though they hadn't had any new fights, and Dean hadn't pushed for anything. One time, right after school, he'd needed to hear Sam's voice. He didn't even know why, but he just... well he'd felt lonely for the first time in a long time, maybe since he'd gotten over his father's death. Instead of calling Sam, he'd resorted to a little 'afternoon sexing'... yeah, of himself. Like clockwork, that had gotten him a phone call from Sam, and they'd talked dirty for a while, and come to the sound of each others' strained pleas. That night had been easier. Maybe because they had both spent themselves earlier, they were able to share the bed. Dean fell asleep with his head on Sam's chest and the last thing he remembered was Sam stroking his hair. He'd cracked a joke about needing to be stroked elsewhere, but it had been just that, a joke.

Now he filled up his tray and found an empty table, where Sam joined him without even a tray of food he wouldn't be eating. "Want my hamburger wrapper after I'm done with it? It's nice and crisp, just the sort you like to fold into a million parts." He gave Sam a knowing grin and took a bite.

Sam chuckled, "Maybe I could fold it into a paper airplane, strap a bomb to it and throw it at _certain_ students around here." He cleared his throat, not wanting to fight, but unable to pass up the jab. "So, after school, you have time to hang out, or..." he licked his lips, fingers drumming on the table top as he tried not to let the jealous feelings rise.

"Just aim for the Cullen corner. Not today, can't. " He reached for a french fry and dabbed it in ketchup. "And don't be surprised if you find scaffolding around the house. Fixing it up a little. Guess I'll be arguing with contractors and then there's the school event." He didn't say ‘dance’, recalling only too well a certain innocent tree that had gotten uprooted for nothing. "And I don't have a date," he added, not knowing why he bothered to explain. 

Sam started to tense, his hand on the table curling into a first, only to relax with Dean's last words. "You... don't?" it was a relief. Sure it didn't mean that he wouldn't hook up with someone there but Sam could hope. He wished he could follow, know, watch. But, the Cullens never went to crap like this and for good reason. Nothing like going vampy on the dance floor in front of the entire school. Not to mention, it just wasn't 'their thing'. But, he'd tune into Dean, his feelings, it was the second best thing to being here. 

Sam nodded, glancing toward his brothers and sisters as he thought about the bomb idea. "Nah, might mess up Ros' hair, then she'd be pissed. NEVER piss her off."

"No kidding. Bet she's a real handful, poor Em... aw shit, she heard." Dean grimaced. 

Sam snickered at the sight of Ros glaring daggers at Dean. He looked back and leaned slightly closer, "I've got a bigger dick than she does, you make a run for it," he grinned as he pulled away, winking at him. "See? I learned about your... bar fight thing you like. I get it. It's still... odd, but I get it."

"You realize that next I'll be accused of teaching you all the wrong things?" Grabbing his soda, Dean sucked down on the straw, making a loud slurping noise. "I ah...." He looked down, his jaw pulsing slightly. "I got all my missing assignments in. Just wanted to say that before you..." Shit, why did he go down this path?

Sam quirked a brow, "Before I, what?" he frowned slightly in confusion.

He cleared his throat. "I mean, before _you_... I was real close to quitting. To telling them..." he nodded toward some of the admin who'd walked into the cafeteria, "... to just fuck off. I made a promise too, not in so many words but... Alright, that's it, you get the gist." He strove to find something else to talk about and avoided Sam's gaze.

Sam nodded as he sighed softly, "Sometimes promises are harder to keep than we think when we make them, huh? I'm glad you kept this one. Knew you could do it," he winked. "If I can go to high school and graduate sixty times, you can do it once."

He managed to laugh. "Yeah but do you have a night job?" He gave Sam a piercing stare, "I mean maybe you have one _now_ but you never did before."

Sam shrugged a shoulder, "Have had the same one for nearly twelve years," he paused, "take away five, but still. And you're more of a day _and_ night job and I don't get weekends off or hazard pay." Sam gave him a pointed look. "Before that, there was hunting, I had to feed after all, and there was learning how to be... a Cullen. Not as easy as it looks."

"Hazard pay?" Dean started to clear up the mess in front of him. "Here's your hazard pay," he said pointing at himself. "What? Now you want overtime?"

Sam shook his head, "I want fringe benefits, but belatedly, I discovered that the company might go belly up if I do." He pulled from his seat, pushing his chair in, then turned and headed back toward his family.

"I'll give you fringe benefits... I _try_ to give you fringe benefits," Dean muttered, tossing a mock glare at Sam's back and bussing his tray.

* * * 

It was night and Sam was pacing the living room, his father and mother reading on the sofa and his brothers and sisters upstairs, sexing it up. Mr. Owens, who was going to be chaperoning at the dance, asked him to stop by and grab some papers for one of the new kids who needed tutoring. Sam agreed but he’d put it off, part of him wanting to wait until Dean would be there, part of him not wanting to go at all. 

He was edgy, worried that Dean was going to hook up with someone. Each touch of a small feminine hand on Dean had Sam's jaw tightening, his hands balling up, but so far he hadn’t felt anything but innocent dances. However, he was waiting for the boot to fall, for Dean to accept the next invitation. It was... inevitable.

Eventually, Carlisle set his book down and looked up at his pacing son. "What's the matter, and before you say it, you're not alright."

Esme nodded. These ups and downs of Sam's concerned her. It was true that he'd become a lot broodier over the years, after his experiences, who wouldn't be? It was also true that the Winchester boy had a way of raising his spirits, which was good. But by the same token, he could and would send Sam plummeting down to even darker places, and she was afraid they'd never be able to retrieve him. 

Sam glanced over at them. "Dean." He told them simply, as if it explained everything. At their combined blank stares, Sam huffed, running a hand through his hair, "He's at the dance, _dancing_... with girls.” His eyes darkened, "he claims to love me, and yet he does..." Sam waved an angry and through the air, pacing faster with his increasing agitation.

Carlisle and Esme exchanged looks. Her husband was so much better at this, maybe because he mixed with humans a lot more and understood them better.

"The other night, you thought the same thing. You may be getting agitated for nothing," Carlisle said calmly. 

Sam shook his head, "You don't _see_ him with them, Car- Dad." He stopped pacing, standing in front of Carlisle, "You don't hear the things he says to me about how he needs to 'get it' somewhere." he shook his head, "I should be able to trust him and I can't. How can we ever have... _anything_ when I can't trust him?"

Naturally Carlisle couldn't promise that Dean wouldn't find himself a nice warm girl to spend the night with. The boy had told them over and over that he would do just that, though it hadn't escaped some of the Cullens' notice that his nighttime activities involved Sam more than anything else these days. "You know he doesn't see things our way, son. He separates 'love' and 'sex' and thinks he wants only the latter." Leaning forward, Carlisle rested his elbow on his knee. "It's hard for any of us to remember what 17 or 18 felt like. But its’ a time of confusion. It's a wonder humans survive the hormones raging through their systems, giving them conflicting information. Sam, teenagers rebel. They hurt their parents. They hurt their siblings, their girlfriends... boyfriends. It's called ‘growing pains’ for a reason. He's a brat," he nodded, "he hurts you with his words and actions, whether he knows it or not, but he's only being human. I wish he could understand what he puts you through, but he'll never understand the depths of a vampire's feelings. And I wish you could understand he might not be able to help himself sometimes." 

Sam listened with lips pressed in a grim line. He understood, but it didn't make it any easier, didn't make the pain that would hit him any less harsh or real.

"He cares about you," Esme chimed in. "I could tell, when we spoke during the football game. You're not the only one with protective instincts." She smiled at the memory of Dean's outrage at what had been done to Sam. 

Sam huffed, "For caring so much, he certainly does a bad job of showing it." His eyes slid back to his father as he nodded, "I know, I know. Growing pains. But, I shouldn't have to suffer with him. He should know how to treat another Hum-" he stopped himself'. "How to treat someone with feelings."

"Sam? What if he had no feelings for you?" Carlisle spoke very low, walking on eggshells. "Would that stop you? Would you allow him to see anyone he wants? Would you know how to treat him... how not to stalk him? Or would your vampire nature be too strong." All three of them knew the answer to that one.

Sam's eyes narrowed as he bit his lip. He knew knew he would never be able to let Dean go, even if Dean hated him. He'd said as much, that he didn't know how to let go, and that had been before he knew Dean had any feelings for him. His face crumbled slightly, he hung his head. “I don’t know _how_ to quit him." He raised his head, "I would... if I knew how... for his sake, I would."

"I know," Carlisle answered. "We don't choose these things, we just deal with them. All I mean to say is that you're both having a difficult time. I'm willing to bet you each think the other has it easier," he smiled, thinking of Dean's silly dream of easily beating down a vampire's thirst. It was hard enough to fight the need for blood as to people that held no other attraction to them, and virtually impossible when the attraction was there and temptation was in their face every moment of every day and night.

Sam huffed, crossing his arms over his chest, "I told you about his stupid dream. Like I could just block out the hunger. Like I'm not fighting it with everything in me." He shook his head, "he claims this hurts him too, but he has no idea what _real_ pain is."

Esme got up and put her hand on her son's arm. "We know that. He _can't_ know it. He can't know what he can never experience." She licked her lips. "You know, there's something else at play, on top of his feelings for you, something we often forget." Nodding, she added, "a vampire's pull on a human. Just because of who or what you are, you can cause him to ... maybe it's harder for him to fight what he needs from you, because of who you are... you're made to seduce humans."

Sam pressed his lips together, his brows rising as his dead heart constricted painfully, "And the one person, the human, I want to seduce, I can't, because I might kill him."

Closing her arms around him, she gave him a hug and whispered. "End this nightmare for both of you and let Carlisle turn him."

“I can't. He doesn't want to be a vampire. I could never have him turned into something he doesn't want. I couldn't handle it if he hated me, resented me for that. I can't." He pulled back shaking his head slowly, face grim, eyes shining with unshed tears, "

"Then change his mind. Persuade him, for all our sakes, Sam," she said, kissing his cheek and pulling away.

* * *

Dean could manage a slow dance and had learned, long ago that asking a girl to dance was the surest way to have her in your arms without preliminaries. Tonight, he'd asked a few of girls, but he wasn't really trying to get himself a date. Sure he flirted, but they expected it from him. Even the ones who wouldn't touch him with a ten foot pole because of his reputation. When Kala asked him to dance, he'd been on the verge of leaving. But he knew no one had asked her yet. "Thought you'd never ask, beautiful," he said, giving her a winning smile, and pulling he to the dance floor.

"You were waiting? Ha!" She waited for him to put his arms around her, and then rested her hands on his shoulders, smiling into his face.

"I’d have asked but I was afraid I'd get my ass kicked by that guy who's been watching all night," he said, pointing at a football player. 

"Really? Make him jealous," she said, moving closer.

"So you WANT me to get my ass kicked." Dean pulled her closer, letting his hand wander up and down her back, They were swaying to the music, when he felt a pull and looked beyond her. A tall figure stood at the back of the gym, near the doors, staring intently at them... no at him. Distracted, he didn't hear what Kala said, and moved his ear close to her mouth so she could repeat, even as he stared back at Sam.

The feelings sweeping through him were confusing. He felt a lump rise in his throat, and he didn't know if it was for Sam or for himself. The vampire didn't look angry, but the sadness... oh God the depths of the loneliness in his eyes, it got to Dean like nothing else had. He tangled his hand in Kala's hair, but it was Sam he imagined in his arms, Sam's hair slipping through his fingers, Sam's breath fanning across his cheek.

It hadn't taken much for Sam to find Dean, his scent, his presence had called to him like it always did. He stood silently watching Dean with the girl, and for the first time, he didn't get angry, didn't cause a scene, didn't storm up and yank her away from what was _his_. Instead, he simply stood there with his heart aching, breaking as he watched. It was better this way, likely. Hell, more than likely, definitely. Dean shouldn't have to put up with this... Carlisle was right, he was just a kid, going through what teenagers did. What Sam wanted, expected from him was unfair to him, but knowing this didn't lessen his pain. The need to see Dean, to just look at him, had been too strong, so he’d come. So there he stood now, his heart bleeding and raw. Tears stung his eyes, but he fought them back, keeping his gaze glued to Dean as he danced.

Forever. That's what was written in Sam's eyes. Forever. Dean tried to drag his gaze away, but failed. Maybe... maybe if they could get beyond this physical issue they had, Sam could be his _forever_ , the only person he could imagine giving up everyone else for. _Maybe_ , and yeah, it was a big maybe, because Dean didn't know if he was cut out for that. What he did know was that right now, it was Sam he wanted in his arms. And mostly, he wanted to wipe the sadness from his face. 

Sam couldn't stand there any longer. It hurt too much to watch, to know that Dean would never be truly his. That he would always want others, because he'd want sex, need it. That this thing Sam had built up in his head, his heart was nothing but an impossible dream. Tearing his gaze away, blocking out the feel of the girl’s arms around Dean, he headed for the door.

When Sam turned away, Dean's heart lurched... protested. Almost on auto pilot, he pulled Kala over to the football player and tapped the guy on the shoulder. "Sure you can cut in," he said, leaving the two of them astounded as he ran toward the door. 

Once in the hallway, Dean shouted. "Sam! Wait." Chasing him through the doors, he caught up at the outside stairs and grabbing his arm, turned him around. "Dance with me?" He nodded to the side of the building, where they would still hear the music but probably not be seen. "Please?"

Sam had been too wrapped up in his heartache to hear Dean. Not until his arm was grabbed did Sam look up... into beautiful green eyes. He stared numbly at him, his words not registering at first. Dance? Yes, he knew he was at the... Wait... he wanted to dance with him? Sam bit his lip, slowly letting out a breath as he nodded, "Okay." The one word whisper soft and filled with pain.

"Yeah?" Dean gave a tremulous smile, sliding his hand down to catch Sam's hand and pulling him downstairs and around to the side of the building. He started to put his hands on his waist, at the same time Sam started to reach for his waist. Dean then started to put his hands on Sam's shoulders, but they both had the same idea at the same time. If there hadn't been this much pain, he'd have laughed. Taking a breath, he put one arm around Sam's waist, and the other on his shoulder in a compromise. 

Sam bit into his lip, stifling a moan. He was sure if his heart were the beating kind, it would have somersaulted right then as Dean pulled him close.

Dean's heart slammed against his chest the way it hadn't all evening. He swallowed, brushed his mouth over Sam's lightly, and rested his head on Sam's broad shoulder. "I wanted her to be you, and then there you were," he whispered. 

Sam licked his lips, tasting Dean there, even from the quick soft kiss. He leaned the side of his head against Dean's, closing his eyes, until Dean's whispered words had him opening them again, pulling his head up, edging his shoulder forward slightly so that Dean would pick up his head and look at him, "You - you did?" he asked softly, afraid to dare to believe, to think that maybe... that Dean might _be_ his in his mind too.

"Yeah," Dean shook his head, holding onto Sam just a little tighter. He drew in his scent, swallowing at the knowledge that this was one of the many things no one else could give him. Unimportant, small maybe... but not to him. He tried to steer them to one side but almost tripped. "Sorry, ... different with a guy," he said, looking up. 

Sam nodded silently. Without warning, without another word spoken, Sam wrapped his arms tightly around Dean's waist, lifting him, and placing him back down once Dean's feet were on top of his own. "Easier," he told him simply, voice still strained.

"No... dude...," a laugh broke out of Dean, but he insisted on having his feet on the ground. "I am not your child. I don't feel like your _child_ " he added, moving back in into Sam’s arms, one hand hooked around the back of his neck. He tried to relax into Sam, but noticed his dance partner was holding himself very stiffly. Swallowing hard, he stepped back. "You don't want to..." He didn't know why that was making him want to cry now. What the hell, was he turning into a girl here?

Sam shook his head, his arms falling to his sides, "I do, Dean. I just..." he shook his head, reaching out to pull Dean back against him, wrapping his arms around him. He held onto him tightly, brushed his lips across Dean's and pulled one hand up to thread his fingers through Dean's short soft hair. "Missed seeing you tonight." He gave a soft half chuckle at himself. "I know, it's not like you're never away, but, it was different tonight." He shook his head, taking a breath, inhaling Dean's scent and nearly welcoming the pain it gave him. Hoping it would override the pain in his chest.

"Night's not over, Sammy." He pressed closer. "You know, grown men don't miss each other in a few hours. Or... sniff each other just because they like chocolate chip cookies," he nodded. "zzjust not done. But I was never a rule follower," he waited a beat. "I know it wasn't funny, but maybe a smile?" He raised his eyebrows, "show a bit of sexy fang here, hmm?" 

Sam rested his forehead against Dean's. He closed his eyes, licked his lips. "If life were fair, if things could be the way I want them to be," he sighed softly, "I'd be kissing you now, from your lips down your neck, your jaw. I'd be smiling, because I'd be the luckiest guy around.... ever. I'd thread my fingers through yours and bring your hand to my mouth, kiss each finger as I looked into your eyes. I'd run my hands up under your shirt, just so I could touch your skin, just so I could feel the heat of your body. Sadly, the dance wouldn't last long, because I'd want to have you, want to touch more of you, and you'd let me. Wouldn't you? You'd pull me closer as we both touched and caressed, and to the sound of the soft music, I'd make love to you." Sam sighed, "If only life were fair."

"Loud music. I like _loud_ music," Dean answered gruffly, trying not cry. "You gonna smile for me now Sam, cause I swear to God, I will kill you if you make me cry." He held onto Sam so tight, clinging to him so hard the vampire would have to pry him off he wanted to step away. 

Sam slowly picked up his head, the corner of his lips turning up, but it was forced, "Whatever music you wanted. I'd never be able to deny you anything anyway. As long as you were happy. As long as you were mine."

Dean stared at him for a long moment. "I'd make you wear perfectly pressed frilly tux shirts, just so I could wrinkle them up. Don't ask," he gave an equally weak smile. 

Sam raised an eyebrow slightly, but only nodded, as he moved in closer once more, his forehead against Dean's. He was quiet for a long moment as he closed his eyes, "I love you," he whispered softly. 

The silence shamed Dean. 

"If I could love anyone, it would be you," he finally answered. It was the best he could offer. Slanting his mouth over Sam's, he kissed him, again lightly, chastely... not taking anything for himself. "You know you deserve a whole lot better than me. I'm just some idiot hunter, and you're..." It really was like the world class concert pianist and the bar fly who'd never known better than motels and fast food drive thrus, and who'd never been outside the country. "... you're something special." Sam’s sisters were right, he finally understood that he didn't deserve Sam at all.

Sam shook his head, sniffled softly, lashes wet. "Not special. Cursed. Always have been.” He looked older in that moment, "just never knew how much until now."

Dean wasn't sure how it happened. How they both ended up looking away and crying, in their own little worlds, for their own reasons, and yet connected by the strongest of bonds. He couldn't even say how long they stayed there, he knew the music had long stopped and the parking lot was empty of cars. He also knew it was the hardest 'goodnight' parting he'd ever experienced.


	13. Chapter 13

Two weeks flew by. Things between them went pretty well. No major fights. A few hunts, and Sam managed to keep Dean satisfied with a lot of dirty talk, kissing and phone sex. Maybe he'd figured out that giving Dean some sexing before the guy was hard up went a long way in heading off demands that were impossible to comply with. Which was not to say there was no pushing and pulling between them, there was always that.

Dean was loading the car, making sure he had weapons ready, though he didn't think he'd need them yet. He was getting closer to those so called doctors, he was so hot on their trails he could almost taste the triumph of catching them at their game. If he had any say in it, they would never get their hands on Sam again. Ever. 

He'd done a lot of research on Sam because a lot of this centered around him. Sure this organization had a side business of selling organs, ordinary ones. But they'd kept Sam for 50 years total, and they'd still have him if they could. So who was it that knew him from way back, from the first time he was held in the early part of the century? And how did that information get passed on to whoever was interested in him now?

He'd spent hours on end, pouring over pictures of every member of the city council, every newspaper clipping that showed the town folk, and every article and picture of people coming from hundreds of miles away to touch the 'miracle baby' and later boy, to get some healing. Maybe it had become Dean’s obsession, a secret one because hiding things from Sam was hella difficult. Sometimes when he needed to do more research he'd have to intentionally piss off the vampire to make him leave. Or sometimes he get pushy, demanding Sam kiss him and touch him, again, leading to the same result... though Dean might pay for it, since he'd be the one left hard and needy. But he did whatever it took to keep his investigation progressing, and he'd finally hit on something. He had a theory, but he needed to see something with his own eyes.

Walking back to the door, he closed and locked it, and headed back to the car. Sam was off on one of his days long hunts with Emmet and this was the perfect opportunity.  
*

Sam ran out of the woods, hurrying to Dean's house. He hadn't seen Dean for nearly three days now, and as little amount of time as that seemed, it felt longer to him. Dean had become a near obsession he couldn't get out of his blood, out of his mind. Emmett had warned him more times than he could count that if he mentioned Dean again on the hunt Emmett was going to hunt _him_. 

He got there just in time to see Dean walking to his car. Jogging up to him, Sam called out, "Hey! Where ya going? You want some company?" Of course, Sam hadn't been home yet to clean up. His jeans were dirty, his shirt ripped in various places, leaves were stuck in his hair, he certainly didn't look like he needed to be going _anywhere_ with anyone.

 _Shit!_ Dean turned and ran his gaze over Sam and shook his head. "What beat you?" _Dammit, dammit, dammit_. "I think you need to go home and ah... you know, clean up and maybe a little grooming would do you good." He was searching for signs of blood.

Sam frowned at him, "Beat me?" he caught sight of a leaf hanging out of his bangs and reached up pulling it out, as if that really helped anything. It did nothing for his clothes or the hundred other leaves stuck throughout his hair. Sam grinned slightly, "Sorry, about that. Emmett and I just finished, I ran all the way back..." his voice dropped from his excited tone to a huskier one, "I wanted to see you," he told him, only to frown again as Dean's gaze raked over him. 

"What are you looking at me like that for?" he looked down at himself, "I'm dirty, but..." and then he realized, and looked up, a smirk on his face, "You expected to find blood on me?" he shook his head, "I have table manners, Dean." He looked toward the car, then back at Dean again, "So, where are you going? You want to wait for me to get cleaned up? I'll go with you, or meet you there."

"Glad to hear that... about the table manners." Ran back to see him... great. "Nah, you go home... relax. I'll call when I get back later, alright? Then you can show me how much you missed me in my room, without scandalizing the neighbors."

Sam tilted his head, "Where are you going? What's the big secret? You got a hot date?" he was joking about the date, he and Dean had been doing fairly well when it came to that, other then Dean's flirtation over-drive. So, he probably shouldn't have said it, but with a reputation like Dean's and the flirtation style of a red light district hooker, Sam had to wonder what the hell he was hiding this time. He wished he could read minds like his brother, this would he a hell of a lot easier.

"Do I look like I'm dressed for a date?" Dean shook his head. "No date. Just need to go do some digging around on something. Helping Bobby out." He looked at his watch, and opened the car door. "Couple hours, I'll be back. I expect you to be naked and waiting in my room," he winked. 

Sam huffed, "I'll meet you wherever you're going." he nodded, "I won't be long. I'll see you soon."

"No." The word hung between them. "Not this time, alright. I have my reasons Sam, just... for once, don't argue and just listen to me, alright? Please."

Sam frowned, "Reasons? What reasons? I thought we were a team? Come on, I'm not going to be that long. You know me. I can be there a few minutes after you." He tilted his head, "What's going on?"

Running a hand through his hair, Dean gave a frustrated sigh. "Sam, did you hear me? I said you're NOT going, not with me, not behind me... just not." Fuck, that stubborn tilt of his jaw. "I've got to get some information out of someone. You won't like my... methods. Alright? I can't have you there going batshit over this, it's too important."

Sam crossed his arms over his chest, eyes narrowed, "Fine." He'd follow, Dean wouldn't know it, but he would, just like he always did. He didn't like the sound of this, and Dean might need him, whether he wanted to admit it or not.

"Fine? Promise me." He knew Sam better. "Promise me you're not following. Goddamnit Sam, say it." He locked gazes with Sam, knowing one thing the vampire did not do was break promises. 

Sam stood, staring at Dean, jaw clenched, not speaking. He couldn't promise what Dean was asking him to, because there was no way in hell that he wasn't following. "You won't even know I'm there." he finally said, his voice hushed, but deadly. "I'm not going to let anything happen to you, Dean. You know that, and with this double-talk... I'm not going to let you go without me around." He shook his head slowly, "Sorry."   
Sam let his arms fall to his sides, and quirked a brow, "I'm not sure what you mean by 'your methods', but it doesn't sound good. I think you might need me, maybe more than you know," he shrugged a shoulders, "And I'm going to protect you, whether you like it or not."

He wasn't used to this level of dedication and protectiveness, at least directed toward him. Of all people on this huge planet, how did he end up as the one that Sam cared for this much? He sure as hell didn't deserve it, Dean was convinced of that. He opened his mouth, then shut it. Then opened it again. "I'm not in any danger, I'm afraid for the other person, what you might do," he said quietly.

He took a breath. "I have to get information from a woman. It's real important, and I gotta get it no matter what I have to do for it. She's... " He cleared his throat. "She has a tendency to come on strong."

Sam frowned in confusion, licked his lips. "Afraid for the other person? She? What do you mean comes on _strong_?" Sam shifted his weight, his voice was getting a little louder with the last question, his look more angry. He had a pretty good idea what Dean was saying with that phrase, he might be a virgin, but he wasn't stupid. Thing was, it just... well, it didn't make any sense. Not now, not after the things they had said to each other... at least not to him.

Dean dry scrubbed his face and looked at Sam. "I mean she's kind of grabby. I mean if she's in one of _those_ moods, you won't be able to just stand there, trust me. Look, there's nothing between us, she and I... but I'm gonna do whatever I have to in order to get the info I need, it's for someone who is very important to me. Safer for all of us if you stay, alright?" Leaning in, neighbors be damned, he kissed Sam lightly. "It'll be over before you know it, I promise." 

Sam took a step back, a stunned expression on his face. "You - you're going to sleep with her? For information!?" Sam closed his eyes and drew in a breath, jaw clenched. When he opened his eyes, they were vacant, devoid of any emotion at all, as he tucked his feelings away. "So, that's it then. You don't care that it would hurt me. That I'll feel every single moment of it." Sam hung his head, his heart breaking, "Did you ever mean any of the things you said to me?" he looked up at Dean, "You told me you loved me. You say you didn't, but you said it. I remember. You were asleep, but...." he bit his lip. "Good luck with your hunt, Dean." 

Sam walked backward a few steps, gaze locked on Dean, before he turned and continued off into the woods.

"Sam. Sam!" Dean rammed his closed fist into the side of his precious car, then cursed both at the pain and the absolute hurt he'd seen in Sam's eyes. Telling him he was lying was not an option. Fuck. He'd just have to fix it when he got back. Sam would know he didn't sleep with anyone, they'd talk, and he'd talk his way out of it. Yeah.

Taking a breath, he looked toward the woods on last time and got in, slamming the door shut. For a second, he just stared at the steering wheel. Then he got a hold of himself. Sam's safety came first. And Goddamnit, if he had to lie, cheat or hurt him to keep him safe from these people until he had their asses nailed to the wall, that was what he was going to do. 

Then why the hell did he hurt on the inside as he pulled out of his driveway and hit the road, thinking of achingly beautiful eyes begging him not to go?

* * *

Sam walked numbly into the house, head hanging. He felt like he had been ripped open again by those doctors, like they had taken bits and pieces of his dead heart, only the faces wielding the scalpel weren't that of strangers this time, it was Dean's face that loomed over him. Dean that ripped into his heart and tore it apart. Dean that didn't care how much it was hurting him, that he lay there helpless and in pain, screaming on the inside, wishing that someone would hear him and come take the pain away. 

As he passed by the kitchen, Emmett and Jasper stepped out, both snickering softly, "Hey, Sam, Jasper wrote you a 'to-do' list." Emmett told him, handing Sam a scrap of paper with Jaspers writing scrawled acrosse it. 

Monday - clean bedrooms, drink blood.   
Tuesday - hunt with Emmett, drink blood.   
Wednesday - go shopping with Alice, drink blood.   
Thursday - help Dad, drink blood.   
Friday - Dean 

His brother's cracked up laughing, but Jasper suddenly sobered, "Emmett, it's not funny, something's wrong." 

Sam crumpled the paper and tossed it, continuing toward his room, not saying a word to either of them. He slammed the door closed and went to his settee. He lay down on his stomach, burying his face in the pillows as silent tears ran from his eyes. How? How could he be so cruel? So heartless? Dean had once said he was sorry on behalf of other humans for what had happened to him, but at least, they had been strangers. At least he didn't love them.

Carlisle heard Jasper and started to come down the stairs when he saw Jasper who nodded his head toward Sam's room, upstairs. Carlisle gave a barely perceptible nod and went to Sam's door, knocking once and then walking inside. "Sam?" He stood over him and touched his shoulder. "What is wrong?"

Sam jerked his shoulder away from his father's touch, "Leave me alone," came the muffled reply, "Just leave me alone." His voice broken, sorrowful, obvious that he was crying.

Sighing, Carlisle pushed him over slightly and sat down. "Whenever you're ready to tell me, I'll be here." His patience was endless, and he knew Sam needed to talk, whether or not he knew it himself. 

Sam picked his head up slightly, sniffling as he looked over his shoulder at his father. "Dean! That's what's wrong! What's always wrong!" his words were angry now, "He doesn't know how to care about anyone or anything but himself! He's lied to me! He told me he loved me and yet he's going to go fuck some girl for information! He knows... no, you know what? I'm pullin' the damn plug on this whole thing right now. I don't ever want to feel Dean Winchester again!" he swung his legs off the side of the settee, getting up and pacing away from his father. "Dean can fucking go to hell!" he yelled as he reached out and grabbing the edge of his book and stereo shelf, knocking the entire six foot high study display over, sending it crashing to the floor. 

"GO TO HELL, DEAN! I HATE YOU! I FUCKING HATE YOU!!" he screamed, as he continued to demolish his room.

Carlisle stood stock still and let his son do what he needed to his things, but when he took a step toward the door, he gripped Sam's arm and stopped him. Looking straight into coal black eyes, he shook his head ‘no’. "Not in the heat of anger. If it's too much for you, you know none of us will judge you for killing him, but don't do it now." A vampire’s emotions often clouded judgment, and it might not matter where the vampire in question didn't have a strong conscience. But Carlisle had the feeling that Sam would always regret it, and his son did not need one more burden weighing down his soul.

Every item, every piece of furniture rattled in the room and Carlisle wondered when they'd come flying at him, or when he'd be thrown against the wall. His grip tightened. "Got to Edward and Bella. Stay with them a week, then decide. And if he has to go, he has to go." He tried to hide any regret in his voice.

Sam stopped his tirade, his coal black eyes meeting Carlisle's gold. Trembling from the ferocity of the emotions whirling inside him, Sam lifted a hand and wiped at his tears. He nodded to his father. "I'll go. I don't want to be around him anymore. Not ever again." his bottom lip trembled before Sam Dorton - Cullen did something he hadn't done since he was a little boy, at home with his biological father. He suddenly threw himself into Carlisle's arms, "It's so hard. Hurts so bad," he told him softly.

Surprised, but immediately closing his arms around his son, Carlisle nodded as he listened and stroked his back, giving what comfort he could. "We'll get you to Edward. A change of scenery will do you good, Sam." It had been close. Dean Winchester did not know how lucky he was that Sam loved him enough to rein in his temper, his need to destroy that which was slowly destroying him from the inside. "It won't be easy, it never is." Tightening his arms, he added. "Maybe in a few years, a decade, he'll be a man then."

Sam slowly pulled back, nodding. "I might not come home until then," he tried to smile, to joke, to make his father not worry. He sniffled again, wiping his eyes. "I want to leave as soon as I can." he shook his head, "I can't stay here. Can't be near him." Sam hung his head and heard _her_ voice in his mind, "I made a promise...." he looked up, "Can... will you all... until I get back, until I can decide... I have to keep that promise as long as I can." he shook his head, "I know it doesn't make sense, but..."

"We'll do what we can," Carlisle answered. They were unlikely to watch over the hunter as closely as his son did. "I'll have the others keep an eye on him at school, and go past the house. If he's gone for long periods, we'll look for him. Son," he smiled down on him. "I don't think she meant forever. She wanted her son to grow up, and he has, and you've helped him make it to eighteen. It's time to let go of the promise, and live."

Sam looked at his father for a moment, he'd never thought about it that way before. He’d always thought that he should look after Dean forever, for the rest of his life. He nodded, "Yeah, I guess you're right." He looked back at the mess of his room, "I, uh, need to clean this up. Pack." he looked back at his father and nodded again, "Thank you." he offered a small smile, but it was forced. 

"Leave it. Just pack." If his son was right about what Dean was about to do, Carlisle was sure there would be another scene shortly. "Emmett will go with you." He walked to the door, and turned. "I'll tell your mother."

 

*

Sam and Emmett loaded Sam's suitcase into Emmett's jeep. The other Cullens stood outside, silently watching as Sam prepared to leave. "Alice and Jasper will follow you and Emmett in your car. I don't want you driving, Sam." Carlisle told him as he stepped beside his son. 

Sam glanced back toward his car, his brother and sister climbing inside. He nodded, looking back at his father, "Alright." he answered quietly, glancing over to his mother and Rosalie. 

After he exchanged hugs with them and Carlisle, Sam climbed into the passenger seat of Emmett's jeep. They drove in silence for a long while, though Sam could feel Emmett glancing over at him every so often. He didn't acknowledge it however, simply continued staring, stony faced out the window.

* * *

By the time he got home, Dean was pumped up on adrenalin and the desire to bring the people who hunted Sam to justice. Yeah, he wouldn't call it revenge, even if a part of him might want it.

Earlier, he'd figured out that the special chains that held Sam had been manufactured by some company that catered to the sex toys and S&M industry. That's why he'd been at bondage club the night Sam had followed him there. He'd narrowed the manufacturers down to three and one of them actually owned the club. Under the guise of investigating the death of someone who'd misused certain equipment, he'd been able to get some names and found out that the glowing metal was supposed to heighten pleasure. Right... he knew that was false, but he'd followed a couple more leads and found a particular club where they bought a lot of equipment made with that same material. He didn't even need to enter to realize it was some sort of vampire club... vamps and their humans. From the outside, it appeared to be a voluntary thing, but he couldn't be sure that all the humans who went in walked out.

If Sammy hadn't been at the heart of this thing, he'd have made him take him inside. He thought about sneaking in, and maybe he still would some other time, if it became necessary, but he'd learned from the Cullens to be very wary of their sort of vampires. And he had the feeling... yeah, some of the ones that walked into the club reminded him a lot of the Cullens. And if they could read minds, or feelings, or whatever... yeah, it was best not to risk inadvertently giving shit away.

A lot of work had lead him to find out that the company making the chains and other equipment was a subsidiary of Zachariah Medical Lines, Inc. Now he was getting somewhere. Online research hadn't told him shit about what the owners of the company looked like or where they were from, so he'd gone straight to their headquarters. His attempts to get his foot in the door with sending in job applications had failed, so he'd shown up at some fundraiser they were putting on to raise awareness about a childhood disease. The fundraiser was at their offices and he'd gotten in easily.

For a medical supplier, they sure had high security and a lot of cameras. The head of the company, Dr. Jed Zachariah was nowhere to be seen. From what Dean could find out, the man was in Europe teaching special classes and would be back in a few months. He'd mentally cursed until he'd found his way into a hallway where the company had hanged pictures of former events. Right there. On the wall... one Jed Zachariah was looking back at him, and it was _him_. It was the carbon-copy of one Jebediah Zachariah... Doctor... the doctor who'd delivered Sam as a baby. Same guy, or his kid with a spitting image, but Dean was pretty damn sure the man was a vampire. 

It made sense. Things were clicking together. The man had either already been a vampire back in the day or turned into one later, and then he'd gone after Sam. For his blood, for it's healing properties. Yeah, he might not have needed it for himself, but it was a moneymaker. That or he could have some other motive, but Dean knew he was on the right track with the guy. Now to catch him. 

Patience... something he didn't have. But short of going to freakin' Europe, it would be a waiting game from here on. A part of him thought he might have to ask Carlisle for help or advice, another told him he should just deal with it with Bobby. The one thing he was sure of was that Sam had to be kept out of it completely. He was the target, he was the victim... but never again.

After he put his notes away, including all the old photos of the people in the town Sam was for, he emailed a copy of Zachariah's picture from his phone to his computer. Then Dean sat back against the pillows on his bed and looked at the clock. Sam should have been here by now. Even if he was angry. He flipped the t.v. on, determined to wait.

An hour later, he called Sam twice, but didn't leave any messages. He'd catch him at school and make things better. Yeah, that was the plan.

* * * 

[Next day]

Pulling up before a small cottage, the two vehicles slowed and came to a stop as a seventeen year old looking young man walked out; his features pale, his hair a wild dark bronze, eyes like glowing amber, his arm around a naturally pale brunette girl, with a girl-next-door charm.  
She was a slip of a thing, Bella. But she looked oddly at home, next to his brother as they walked out to meet them.   
Sam opened the jeep door, unfolding his tall frame as he stood, head hanging. Edward wasted no time in walking up and enveloping Sam in a hug. "It'll get better." Edward told him quietly before drawing away.  
Sam nodded, unsure that is brother was right.

Bella wanted to give Sam a hug, but she hanged back a bit. She didn't know him like she knew the other Cullens, and he'd been very messed up when he first got home. So much so that Edward had sent her back to Canada, not wanting any human he cared about to be near Sam until Sam was a bit more himself. Edward had said the hardest most painful thing about it was that Sam had been the gentlest of the Cullens, able to resist humans and their blood the same way Carlisle could.

As Edward spoke to Emmett, Alice and Jasper, catching up on the small things going on around home, Sam's eyes, his attention strayed to Bella. The differences between her and Dean. Unlike Dean, who would be standing there as though this were the biggest annoyance to him, or simply walk off grumbling about vampire gossip, she stood there, her hand possessively resting on Edwards arm. Her head slightly bowed shyly, as they all spoke, the look on her face, soft and full of... near worship of his brother. She was soft and pliable, obviously kind, even in her mannerisms and stance. Dean was all harsh edges and snark. He fought back... against most everything and kept Sam on his toes. But, he also made him laugh with his wit and off the cuff remarks.  
It wasn't until Alice touched his shoulder that Sam realized they had been speaking to him, "Huh? Sorry?" he shook his head, "I was just thinking of..." he pressed his lips together. He wasn't going to say it. Wasn't going to say that name.

Since they weren't in Forks, neither she nor Edward knew all the details, but in just a short time everything in Sam's mind would be revealed to Edward. Bella didn't know what to think when Edward said Sam was coming both to save his human, and himself. She recalled the disastrous results of Edward's attempt to protect her by abandoning her. 

"We have a room prepared for you. Computer set up for those... insomniac moments," she gave him a knowing look. 

Sam nodded to Bella, offering her a forced, before his golden hazel eyes slid to Alice who squeezed his hand.

"You're going to be fine." Edward gave a small smile, slightly revealing his fangs. "You know, I could always read him for you." He wondered if this Dean should die, the way Rosalie thought he should, or should be given a chance, the way some of the others thought, at least a part of them did.

Sam sighed, shaking his head, "A month ago, a week ago," I wished you there, thought maybe you could do that and help me understand. But now... I understand. I don't need to hear what I already know. He doesn't care. Doesn't know _how_ to care. Maybe... if I'm wrong, if he really does feel, _anything_ he'll realize it while I'm gone."

This was hitting too close to home for Bella. Giving Edward's arm a squeeze, she walked to Alice and offered to show her around. They'd only recently moved to the cottage. Somehow Emmett and Jasper came trailing after them, leaving Edward and Sam alone.

He waited for the others to move away, though they'd never be out of earshot, and looked directly into Sam’s eyes. "You're a mess. Been there."

Sam raised a brow at Edward, glanced past him, before his eyes met Edwards again, "Worked out for you though." he shook his head, "Dean's no Bella, Edward. Not by a long shot."

"Bella is... Let's just say she looks like an angel but," he gave his brother a suffering look. "It's not always easy, even now. But it's worth it." Yeah, his Bella still gave him heart attacks with her independent and clumsy ways, and she kept trying to negotiate, to force him to change her sooner than they'd agreed. He had a feeling one day she'd succeed.

Sam gave his brother a sympathetic look, "Dean is..." he sighed, tilted his head, "You know the thirst? Well, there's that, the addiction, the want, and... personality-wise, think Emmett without fangs... on a bad day." The corner of Sam's mouth quirked up ever so slightly into a smirk, then fell away, "Oh, and he wants sex. All the time." He nodded, "Yeah, that pretty much wraps it up."

"Oh, so he's mostly human. The thoughts I have to deal with..." Then he got a glimpse of how much Sam wanted it too, how hard he had to fight to keep sane and not to give in to the demands of not only his own body, but to his maniac of a boyfriend. How much his inability to give Dean what he wanted hurt him. "Ouch," he whispered, feeling for his sensitive brother. 

Sam nodded, "Yeah, ouch."

* * *  
[week 1 - Sam Away]

The first couple of days that Sam hadn't been at school, Dean told himself that it had happened before. Sam had taken off hunting or licking his wounds, but he'd be back. They'd talk and make up. 

It sounded good, except every fucking morning he woke up and expected the scent of coffee and chocolate chip cookies. And every night, when he heard a sound outside, his gaze flicked to his window, expecting Sam to jump inside and look at him with those penetrating eyes of his, and then they'd have it out. And in the middle of the night, he'd wake, think his guardian angel was there, but no one answered him. No one. He was alone. Again.

*

"Please Sam, just call me and we'll talk, okay? Just call me, dammit."

Yeah, he'd left several messages just like that. His phone didn't ring once. And he never felt Sam's presence when he was out on a hunt. 

 

* * *  
[Week 2 - Sam Away]

 

It was midweek, and Sam had disappeared for ten days. Dean had been dead sure the Vampire would show, but he'd been wrong. He didn't show. He didn't take his calls. He didn't return them. Didn't bring coffee. Didn't ride with him on those long trips when he went hunting. 

What happened to loving him? What the fuck? Did he just turn off his supposed feelings? What about his goddamned promise to mom... wasn't he supposed to be keeping it?

God damn it. God damn it, he deserved an explanation. Was he gone forever? Or was this an extended leave or what the fuck was it?

Dean started heading for his car when he saw the milky-white set milling around their expensive cars and looking like someone had put a piece of cheese under their noses, and even more so when he changed directions and purposefully strode toward them. Their faces grew stony... cold and unfriendly. Well he didn't want to be their friend anyway.

He stopped a few feet away and gave each of them a long look, before turning his attention to Alice. "Where is he, Alice?"

Alice stood next to Jasper leaning back against her silver BMW. She glanced toward her other siblings, noting the hostile expressions on Emmett and Rosalie's faces before looking back toward Dean. "Where's who, Dean?" she asked him as she pulled away from her car and started for the driver side door, Jasper following after her to hold the door open for her.

"Don't fucking play games. Where's Sam? He's been gone almost two weeks. Wanna tell me what's going on?" He followed close behind her, keenly aware of the danger he was sensing but too worked up to give a damn at the moment. 

Alice looked up at Dean, then glanced back at Jasper, noting his stiff posture, the way he was eyeing Dean. She nodded to him, as she reached back to lay a hand on Jasper's arm. "It's okay, Jasper," She told him softly, before returning her gaze to Dean's, "I can handle this one." Her eyes cold and hard glared into Dean, "He's gone. Congratulations, I'd think you'd be celebrating." She turned back toward her car, dismissing the stupid human before her.

"Wait!" He followed again. "Listen, what do you mean gone? Left Forks? Left the fucking state, what?" He took a step back as she turned, but kept his eyes locked with hers. He needed to know. To hear it from someone, anyone... that Sam had actually left him, because without that, he couldn't bring himself to believe it. "Tell me, Goddamn it. I got him out of that hell hole... and for that, you owe me at least an answer."

Alice tilted her head to the side as she looked at him, Emmett stepping up to the passenger side of her car. 

"Why don't you just beat it, Winchester, you --" Emmett started but Alice held up a hand, her eyes still intent on Dean's. 

"Out of the state?" she shook her head, "No... more like out of the country. We took him as far away from you as we could get him." She paused, gazed at him a moment, "You know, you throw what you did for Sam around a lot. If that's the only reason you did it, so that you can have something over him, something to add to the pain you already make him feel... maybe you should have just left my brother where you found him."

His eyes grew hot with denial. "You took him to..." Sam was gone. He was really gone, beyond reach, beyond tracking... he'd left. Teeth gritted together, Dean nodded, then licked his lips trying to find some words as a storm of emotions battled within him. "Good for him. Tell him I said..." his arm cut through the air. "Never mind. And we're even now." He hadn't been holding anything over anyone, but he was semi-shellshocked and couldn't come up with a clever retort or anything.

Looking each of them in the eyes one last time, he nodded again, muttering a weak "thanks," before walking away. It was what he'd wanted, right? To hear the truth? To hear out loud that Sam had really left him?

Alice watched Dean go, her face set, not feeling any remorse or pity for him, not after what he'd put Sam through, not after hurting Sam so many times, so badly. Love wasn't supposed to hurt like that. 

"Alice..." Jasper's soft whisper made her shake her head, her eyes on Dean's back. 

"No, Jasper," she told him as she tore her gaze away from Dean Winchester and started to get into her car, "I don't want to hear about him hurting. He deserves it and we all know it. Sam had to leave, had to get away." 

Jasper closed the car door after her and turned to walk around the car, his golden gaze straying to Dean as he walked. He could hear Emmett and Ros getting into the Jeep and knew Alice was waiting for him, but Jasper stopped just outside the door of the car and watched Dean until he drove away. Only then did Jasper turn and open his door. 

* * *

[Week 3 – Sam Away]

Some of the messages he left Sam were pathetic. He regretted them almost immediately, and yet when Sam didn't pick up his phone, it was hard to predict what would come out of Dean's mouth.

Then there were the messages where he cursed Sam up and down. Reminded him of his promise, asked him if he'd ever really fucking cared about him or if it had been some act, and even threatened to fuck everyone in sight if he didn't get a simple call back.

Nothing.

He snapped his phone shut and rubbed his eyes as the loud music pounded at his temples as strongly as his headache. Ginks was crowded tonight. Packed with people, with girls in short skirts and lots of cleavage. He should be happy, should be enjoying this. Goddamit, he _would_ enjoy it.

It didn't take him long to talk a dark haired girl into moving behind one of the pillars for a private moment. It had been a long while since he'd held a girl in his arms. Sure he hadn't exactly sworn off them and he still appreciated them a lot, but he'd kept his hands off for Sam. Guess that didn't make a difference to the vampire, and if it didn't make a difference to him, then there was no reason for Dean to change. None.

"Hey baby, looking fine," he grinned and pulled her closer, molding her body to his. "I'd tell you how good the dress looks, but I can't get passed the eyes." Feeling her melt against him, he lowered his mouth over hers, kissing here softly at first. She smelled like perfume and tasted like bubble gum, and even as his tongue slipped past her tongue, all he could think about were chocolate chip cookies.

As they made out, her hands dug into his shoulders, her body pressed into his. She wasn't shy, she was just the way he liked his girls... not afraid to show him what she wanted and what felt good. Her hand moved between them, up and down his chest, and he kissed her harder, trying not to think of how Sam would have kissed him, how Sam would have been rougher, how he'd be struggling against his nature and the battle of wills that would ensue.

He broke the kiss, and stared down into her face, breathing hard. Then he felt her hand slide down toward his belt and slanted his mouth down over hers. _You feeling this Sam? You getting this? It's because of you, goddamnit... it's because of you._

*

Sam was lying in his bed in the room he had at Bella and Edward’s. One arm thrown over his eyes as he lay there in the complete darkness of his room, the cottage silent as the grave. His attention focusr solely on Dean Winchester.   
He could feel Dean, feel the small feminine hands touching him, the tongue in his mouth, the passion, the lust that was igniting inside him. 

Sam groaned, as he rolled over, anger and heartbreak warring inside him for dominance. Why didn't he care? Why was Dean so unfeeling? Carlisle had said it was due to his age, but Sam had to wonder if anyone else had ever hurt another the way Dean always seemed to hurt him. 

His face buried in the pillows, Sam called out Dean's name muffled by the thick downy feather pillows, as his body trembled. Tears of anger and heartache wetting the fabric. 

After what had felt like an eternity, Sam rolled back over, sniffling softly. He hadn't done it, Dean hadn't had sex with her... Why? He didn't understand, but he couldn't say that he wasn't grateful for at least that small reprieve. 

Running a hand down his face, Sam dried his eyes, "Miss you." he whispered into the dark room.

*

Dean wiped his bloodied mouth and launched right back into the large group of ruffians he'd pretty much heckled into fighting him. If Sam wouldn't answer his calls, and didn't give a damn anymore when he kissed girls... even got under their clothes... Dean was gonna give him something that he could not ignore. Pain.

"Take this, Sam," he shouted, half drunk and leaving himself open to a punch that met his jaw with bruising force. He was spitting blood up again. "And that... how do you like the taste of my blood?" He ignored the questions about whether he was crazy. He wasn't... but he was gonna make Sam crazy. So fucking crazy he'd have to call.

*

Sam was in the middle of a sentence, talking with Bella when he felt the first punch to Dean's face and almost bit his own lip.   
What the hell Dean was doing now was anyone’s guess, Sam had stopped trying to figure that out in the first week of staying with Edward and Bella. He had even gotten pretty good at ignoring Dean's feelings since he more or less had to think about Dean to feel them, and he was purposely staying away from thoughts of Dean. 

But now, he and Bella had been talking about things back home, and he had of course started talking about Dean, about his feelings and how hard it was for him when Dean was... well, the way Dean was. 

He was now, sitting with his head bowed, a hand over his mouth, eyes squeezed closed tightly as he tried not to think about Dean, tried not to focus on the pain, each blow to Dean's body, the blood in Dean's mouth. Sam could only thank God that although he could feel it, he couldn't _taste_ it.

*

 _Call me. Call me Goddamnit._ Dean took as many blows as he could without doing a proper job of protecting himself. Sam had always had trouble standing there and watching him get hurt, even when he told him it was for fun. This had to work... it had to.

"Aaarggh," he shouted as his shoulder was dislocated under a heavy blow that sent blinding pain shooting through his entire system. He almost blacked out, but he clung on... had to be able to take that call.

*

Sam's free hand gripped the edge of the table in a white knuckled grip as pain, Dean's pain, shot through his shoulder. Sam growled low in his throat teeth clenched. 

"Sam? Sam, are you alright? Edward!" Bella was up and out of her seat, standing beside Sam, trying to see what was wrong, even as Sam tried to wave her off, shaking his head, teeth still clenched together.

In a few strides, Edward was in the room, wondering if he'd made a mistake leaving Bella there alone with Sam. Then Sam's thoughts hit him and he relaxed a bit, walking over and putting his hand on Sam's shoulder. "Feeling it sucks worse than hearing it. Who'd have thought." Wincing at the same time as his brother, but only in sympathy, he explained to Bella. "His boyf... Dean is getting the crap beat out of him, and Sam's suffering because of it."

Bella looked from Edward to Sam, her eyes wide. 

Sam opened his eyes, barely, slits of golden hazel showing as he looked from Bella to Edward, "It's okay, he's... he does this for fun." Sam shook his head, "It's...odd." Sam doubled over in pain after that.

"Fun? Sam, you sure attract the crazies." Edward backed away and sat down. "Stop thinking about him, then it will go away."

Sam looked up through pain-filled eyes, tried to smile, "Yeah, I'm working on that. Kinda hard to do. I'm used to always being there. Tuning _in_ to this stuff, not out. And now that I'm there..."

Edward saw the tension crawling all over Bella's face. He didn't have to be a mind reader to know she was thinking of how she'd jumped off the sheer cliffs into the water, after he'd left her, just so she could imagine him talking to her, getting angry at her and trying to talk her out of it. "It's not the same thing," he told her, but he didn't sound that sure.

Sam looked between Bella and Edward, "What's not the same thing?" he grit his teeth, "Stupid asshole!" he glanced at Bella, "Sorry, Dean just let some guy punch him in the face."

"It is the same thing," Edward sighed, and reached for Bella, searching her face.

Sam shook his head, "Why is he doing this? When he was with me he didn't let them do this much damage?"

Bella pulled her hair back from her face, tucking it behind her ear. "He wants you to save him. That or... he wants to feel _something._ " She couldn't help but identify with Dean, even if all of the Cullens seemed to hate him or thought he was bad for Sam. He might even actually be bad for Sam, but all she knew was that she'd been where these two were before, and from the human perspective... it sucked. It was a slow death.

Putting his arm around Bella, Edward pulled her into a comforting embrace. "We had a hard time of it too when I left her," he met his brother's gaze. "Especially her."

Sam shook his head, "I don't think _my_ being away is anything to Dean. I don't know why he's doing this. Probably to impress some little slut," he huffed, jaw clenching, muscle twitching.

"Your thoughts about him, they're jumbled." Edward locked gazes with Sam. "Sometimes you make him seem like some sort of saint, helping people at all costs, including you and I don't mean from... from _those people_ ." His eyes got dangerously black as he thought of the people who'd tortured his brother. "And sometimes you make him out to be a selfish ass who's purpose on earth is to torture you. Maybe I should meet him... read him, then we'd know who the real Dean Winchester is."

Sam sighed, nodding. "Well, he is like a saint.. and an ass. He's both." His gaze met Edwards and held, "And neither." Sam slowly tore his gaze from his brother's, his voice lowering, "He's Dean." he shrugged a shoulder, pressing his lips together. "Maybe you should meet him. Give me more to go on... more than what might only be my own emotions clouding my judgment."

Edward nodded and looked at Bella. "School break's coming up in a few weeks."

*

When he got home and saw the bleeding and bruised mess he'd made of himself, Dean knew he'd gone too far. But the lack of any return calls put that to a lie. He tossed his phone onto his bed and stripped his torn and dirty clothes off.

Fuck. He'd dislocated his damned shoulder. There was no way he was going to the hospital, none.

Holding his breath, he rammed his shoulder into the wall, screaming as the pain radiating through out his body. "Sonovabitch!" It hadn't worked its way back into place. He rammed again, and again, shouting repeatedly until he got his shoulder right. Then he grabbed the bottle of whiskey and took a few long drinks, coughing, and pouring some of the alcohol over his wounds. 

He didn't think he could make it in the shower, so he just went to bed, flopping down and groaning at the pain. Stupid, stupid, stupid. Yeah, that's what Sam made him... stupid.

Sam reached for his cell as he sat on the edge of his bed, his shoulder was killing him, but he knew it wasn't his pain, it was Dean's. Friggin' idiot. Scrolling down the numbers, Sam pressed the send button and waited for Dean to pick up. He needed to just hear his voice, at least that's what he told himself. Just needed to _hear_ that he was alright. 

He wasn't going to acknowledge the flutter in his chest or the way he was anxiously awaiting to have Dean answer, he wasn't going to let himself think for a second that he cared about talking to him. He was only checking in, he doubted his brothers or sisters had been watching over Dean tonight, and someone obviously needed to. He was only doing the job he had done for so long now. Being Dean's Guardian Angel.

One eye was too swollen to even open. Dean fumbled around for his phone and flipping it open, brought it to his ear. "Yeah?"

There was nothing but silence. "Who the fuck..." It couldn't be... he brought the phone around to look at the lit display with his good eye. Shock kept him quiet for a moment, then he put the phone back to his ear. "Sam? Sam, that you?"

Sam swallowed the lump that rose in his throat hearing Dean's voice, his lips moved to form words that he refused to let fall from his lips. _Dean... I miss you... love you..._

Instead he silently listened to Dean's voice, as his eyes slowly slid closed, his heart aching, if it were beating he knew it would have stopped doing so now, as he held his breath, waited silently and listened. Listened as he tuned into Dean, his pain, the wounds, mentally counting each one.

Dean's throat was dry... parched. "Please talk to me. Sam please," he begged in a raspy voice. "Need you. Sam?" He closed his good eye, and did something he hadn't in years. Prayed.

Sam took in a slow ragged breath, his throat burned with his heartache, he sniffled softly, running a hand through his hair. "'Night, Dean." He slowly closed his cell as tears slipped down his cheeks. Dropping the cell onto his bed, Sam laid down, face buried in the pillows and did what it seemed he did every night, cried until there was nothing left inside of him.

"Sam... don't hang... Sam." Cursing silently, Dean speed dialed Sam. Again, and again, each time going to voice mail until he couldn't stand it any longer and threw the offending phone at the window. It didn't shatter, but he heard it crack, and didn't care. A cold, numb feeling was starting to bloom inside his belly, and he was gonna wallow in it and in his pain.


	14. Chapter 14

[Week 4 - Sam Away]

He refused to call Sam again. Even when he ached to hear his voice. When he wanted nothing more than a sounding board to discuss a case he was looking into, or to help time pass when his homework was boring as hell. In all the moments of the day when he thought about Sam, he tried to push the thoughts away. He wasn't gonna let Sam break him. No one could do that. No one.

Yeah, and that's why he'd masturbated for as long as he could, knowing Sam _always_ called him when he did that. Always launched into dirty talk, like clockwork. But not now. Not yesterday. Not tonight, maybe not any night ever again.

He almost made it through the week. Almost. But then his finger went to the speed dial, and he sat on his bed, holding his breath.

For once, right after the first ring, the phone was answered. He could barely believe it and was shocked into speaking first. "Sam, Sammy? I... Okay, look, you were right. I do love you. I dunno why it's hard for me to say it, or what that means about... about us… but, you wanted to hear it, right?" Licking his lips, he spoke again. "Please come back, wherever you are, please come back."

Sam sat across the room from his cell that he'd put on speaker, watched as his brother Edward stood next to it, arms crossed over his chest, brow furrowed as though in deep concentration. Sam licked his lips, swallowing back the feelings storming through him at Dean's confession. He had to hear from Edward first, had to know for sure, before he allowed himself to hope, to believe. 

Golden hazel eyes slipped over to Bella who sat on the sofa looking very unhappy with the both of them. He tried to give her an apologetic look, but couldn't quite make himself totally sorry for having put Dean on speaker, for letting Edward listen in, for _knowing_. He needed to know. 

Ever since he’d heard Dean's voice that night he was injured, Sam hadn't been able to relax and he certainly couldn't wait for school to be out so Edward and Bella would come back to Forks with him. This had been the other option.

"Sam?" Dean sounded more unsure. “You there?”

Exchanging glances with his brother and Bella, Edward spoke softly. "Hello Dean, this is Edward Cullen, Sam's brother."

Dean sucked his breath in, eyes instantly hot with fury. He'd just spilled his guts out to a stranger... to one of his fucking brothers. 

"Dean? I know how hard it is. I've been through this, am still going through it," he said, looking over at Bella. It wasn't as if all their troubles had melted away. "It's hard to grasp what we... us vampires go through when..."

He was clenching his jaw so tight, he thought he might break his damned teeth. "Is he there? The fuck... am I on speaker?!" Dean demanded as the truth dawned on him. "Sam, Sam you there... you have me on speaker?"

You didn't have to be a mind reader to figure out Dean was furious, but Edward realized you had to be to in order to know the raw pain this was causing him. Pain that maybe even Dean didn't see. "He's not betraying you, Dean. It's not like that, wait... wait Dean." Sometimes Edward wished that like Jasper, he could calm people.

"Sonova... fine Sam. Know what? You got it right the first time, when you left. I don't need you... I don't fucking want you. I don't ever want to see you again. Get your rocks off playing games with someone else." Shutting the already cracked phone, Dean crushed it in his palm, his hand shaking. Sam had hurt him in a lot of ways, but he'd never have dreamed he'd do this to him... make a fool of him in front of others. Bet the whole damned Cullen clan was laughing over it now. Should'a known better than to say the words Sam had wanted to hear. Should have fuckin' known better.

Sam hung his head as the phone went dead. "Well, that went well...." 

Bella scoffed as she pulled to her feet, "That poor guy has every right to be pissed at both of you. You're unbelievable!" she told them, glaring from one to the other before she walked out of the room.

Sam slowly raised his head to look at his brother, "What's eatin' her?" he licked his lips as he pulled to his feet. "Well, I guess he made his decision." Sam nodded, "He doesn't want me. I need to find a way to move on. It's what I wanted, needed to know. Thank you... for trying for me."

Edward shook his head. "It's not that simple. Humans are..." his gaze slid to the door through which Bella had left. "Complicated. When he said he loves you, it was... genuine. But then he thought he hates you... and you heard the rest, when he said it, he meant that too," Edward looked worried. "He's on edge. I don't know what he's going to do but he's on edge and feeling betrayed."

Sam shook his head, "Dean's always on edge. What am I suppose to do about it? I try to do what he wants, what I think would make him happy and it blows up in my face. The only thing he seems to want from me is sex," he shook his head, "and you and I both know, that can't happen." 

Sam tilted his head, "he loves me and he hates me. Gee, there's a news flash. I kinda already had that somewhat figured out on my own." he huffed, " _Now_ do you see what I have to deal with!? Be glad you have Bella, she might be moody, but at least she isn't bipolar!"

With a quirk of his lips, Edward answered, "She seems to think I'm the bi-polar one in this relationship." He listened to his brother's thoughts and grew more somber. "You both love each other and hurt each other. I don't know what the answer is, Sam. You're miserable with him and without him. I'm just miserable without her, and... there'll be an end to our inability to... you know. I've promised to turn her. If I hadn't promised, she'd have had Alice or someone else try. I couldn't risk it."

Sam forced a half smile, "I'm glad for you. I am. You should change Bella, she's good for you, you should be together." he shook his head, "Dean doesn't want to be turned. Not now, not ever, so, there will never be a way for us. Never." 

Sam didn't mention the fact that _he_ was unable to change people anyway, Edward already knew that. Sam sighed, "Maybe I should just go home anyway, leave you and Bella alone, try to live the way I did before... before I ever admitted having feelings. Before I allowed myself to feel." he shrugged, "Dad says I don't have to watch over Dean anymore. Who knows, maybe I can get back to school and meet my own 'Bella'." He tried to mile, but it didn't quite work and it never reached his eyes. His heart was hurting again, his hope scattered to the four winds. 

Sam ran a hand through his hair, glancing toward the door Bella walked out of. "Maybe you better go talk to her. You might wind up spending the night outside if you don't."

"It's less dangerous that way," Edward admitted, giving Sam a glimpse of his own troubles on the home front. He started heading for the door, then stopped and looked back. "I couldn't do it. Be in the same town and not be with her. If you're trying to separate, then don't go back." With that, he left to go deal with Bella.

*

Two nights later, Dean fell into a fitful sleep.

The room was dark, but he felt something heavy and familiar on top of him when he woke. "Sam? Sam you're back?" His heart leaped, and he moved his arms around the vampire in a hug. "God I missed you."

Why wasn't Sam saying anything? Why was he looking at him with darkening eyes that made his cock twitch, just like that? And then he saw the leather ties in Sam's hands and he knew. "Go ahead baby, anything you want, however you want it," he said, trusting him completely.

After tying his wrists up to the headboard, Sam gave him the hottest kiss ever. He didn't run away, didn't pull his tongue out of his mouth too fast, didn't claim that a vampy moment was making him stop. It was perfect, just perfect. Even when Sam left him to tie his ankles to the footboard. He watched Sam, waiting for him to get back. 

Sam loomed over him again, this time he tore his shirt off. "Easy," Dean practically laughed. "You keep ruining my stuff." Then his pants were ripped to shreds. "Sam," he smiled.

Then the lights came on, harsh and bright. The Cullens surrounded him, walking around the bed, laughing at him, pointing. Sam standing in the corner, not saying anything, just watching his family humiliate him now that he had no clothes on.

"Sam! Goddamn you, Sam!" 

His own shout woke Dean up and had him jackknifing to a sitting position. He was drenched in a cold sweat. The room was empty, it was just him. Him and the left over feelings from his nightmare.

* * *

As Dean worked under the hood of the car, he was very aware of the girl with long dark hair, leaning against the wall and watching his every move. He knew Sarah's dad, a hunter, and she'd been in the area when she had some car troubles. Now here she was, in his garage, flirting like there was no tomorrow. And there wasn't any reason not to take her up. Not a single reason.

He wiped the rag over his fingers, and leaned further. "This baby'll be up and running in no time."

Sarah pulled away from the wall, walking up behind Dean, standing so close she could feel his body heat as she leaned into him slightly. She was far from short at five foot ten inches, so it wasn't hard for her to lean in and have her lips near his ear, "Really? Is that the only thing around here that I can get up and running in no time?" she asked him, one arm wrapping around him, as her hand slid slowly up under the tee he wore.

He tensed, pushing away images of Sam doing just that. She was tall and in shape, it was easy to pretend... too easy. And his body was reacting, though he wasn't sure if it was to her or to his rampant imagination. As her hand slipped up higher under his shirt, he gave an almost defiant chuckle. "Something tells me you can get anything up and running." Turning his head slightly, he gave her a smiled, then looked down to finish up what he was working on.

She sighed softly, shaking her head, "If that's the case, then what are you doing still working on the car? Don't tell me you find it more fascinating than me." She pouted, pulling back. 

While he was still busy, she reached down grabbing the hem of her tee and pulled it up over her head, dropping it onto the garage floor. She stood there behind him, in her tight jeans and black bra, waiting for him to turn around. Her tongue darted out wetting her full bottom lip as she allowed her hazel eyes to rake over his toned body.

He let out a hot breath, never losing his smile as he tightened a nut, and stepped back. He'd just closed the hood and turned when he saw her half naked and swallowed. "Ah... Sarah..."

Bending down, he picked up her shirt and held it out to her. "Your dad... it wouldn't..." Yeah, it was lame. It was stupid, that's what it was, fucking stupid. She was warm and willing. She was looking at him like she wanted him, like he wasn't yesterday’s trash.

Sarah looked at him for a long moment before she reached out and took her shirt from him, "Since when does Dean Winchester give a rat’s ass what someone'’s parent thinks?" she quirked a brow, "If I didn't know better Dean, I'd think you were in love... who is she?" she made a show of looking around, "I see no one else here. What's her story that she isn't here now, with you... curled up in your bed sheets upstairs?"

He felt like she'd slapped him. Yeah, slapped him with the truth. And now she was gonna take the sting out of it. In two steps, he was up against her, one arm around her waist, the other behind her head as he kissed her. It was a kiss meant to punish her for exposing his pain, for seeing it, but once she responded, he didn't know exactly what this was all about either. All he knew was it burned the pain away, and that's what he needed right now.

He didn't say a word, but walked her backwards out of the garage and toward the house. As he tangled his fingers through brown hair, he hoped to God she could make him forget... make him find himself again.

 

* 

Sam shifted the car into the next gear, face set in determined lines as he sped down the highway back toward Forks, toward home, toward Dean. Bella's words running through his mind as he drove. They had been sitting on the back porch, her sipping tea as they talked. _"What do you want Sam? What would make Sam Cullen happy?"_

It had been the easiest question he had ever been asked. "Dean. I want to be with Dean."

Sam glanced in the rearview as he changed lanes."Then you need to go to him, Sam. Leaving him was the worst thing you could have ever done."

He had looked at her as though she had slapped him. ”But...I can't share him, Bella, I won't. I love him too much.”

She had shaken her head, that sympathetic look in her eyes. "No one said to share, Sam. But leaving him... you put him in a position to look elsewhere. When Edward left me, I turned to Jacob, not because I stopped loving your brother, because I needed to feel special. I felt discarded. I needed to know I was important to someone. Dean needs that too. And without you there to give it to him... he's going to find that somewhere else. It might be by having sex or like me… by finding someone to talk to ... but I think you already know the way Dean would handle it. He doesn't sound like the sharing type." 

Sam had been half out of his chair by the time she had finished her words. "I - I have to go." 

Bella had nodded, "Yes. You do.”

He’d taken off, speeding faster as fast as he could. His cell lay on the seat next to him and had been glancing at the screen every so often, hoping, praying Dean would call. He was past the US border when Sam first felt it, the feminine hands on Dean, the tongue in his mouth, the rising lust, the heartfelt pain... 

"No, no, no..." Sam grumbled under his breath as he pressed the gas pedal down harder. He reached over pressing the send button on his phone, Dean's number already on the display.   
It rang one, two, three, four, five times, then the machine picked up. _Dammit, Dean!_

*

He was gonna take her to his room, but an unwanted thought of Sam telling him how he hated feeling him with someone else had Dean dragging her to the safe room. Sam wouldn't feel this, though a part of him wanted Sam to feel it... all of it... wanted to hurt him, the way Sam hurt him.

He slammed the heavy door shut behind them, and the bar automatically came down and locked. "I know, kinky," he grinned. Being a hunter's daughter, she'd know what the room was for and shouldn't freak at all the weapons on the wall.

Reversing their positions, he pushed her up against the door and melded his mouth over hers. _Make me forget. Make me forget him, please._

Sarah kissed him, as her hands slid over his body, groping, feeling , caressing. She yanked at his shirt, as she pulled it upward, wanting it off of him, wanting to feel his skin against hers. Breaking the kiss long enough to pull the offending material up and over his head, she dropped it onto the floor, her pupils lust blown and making her hazel eyes look nearly black. "Kinky's fine with me, whatever you want, handsome. I'm your girl." She slanted her mouth back over his, her hands sliding down his chest to the fastenings of his jeans.

Whatever he wanted. He couldn't have what he wanted, so this was what he was gonna have. It almost hurt, the realization that she was a lot like Sam, down to the color of her eyes and the dimples. "Mmm," he pushed her hands away, bringing them up around his shoulders. "No hurry," he said thickly, cupping her breast with one hand, and slipping his other one under her bra strap. Her response was incredible. He really shouldn't be comparing. He really should get it through his thick head that she wouldn't be stopping him just when they got hot and heavy. This was better, right?

Her hands moved up to tangle in Dean's short hair, as she kissed his lips, soft moans escaping her throat. Pulling back, she nipped at his lips with her teeth, a saucy smirk on her face as she glanced past him toward the cot, then looked back into his eyes, "Fuck me. Now." she whispered, her hands moving, one cupping him through his jeans, the other the small off his back.

So different, different from Sam, he kept telling himself as he stifled a groan and nodded. "Whatever you want, beautiful." He closed his eyes as she ground the heel of her hand against him, then pulled her to the small cot. She sat down, and he lowered himself over her, pushing her hair off her face and finding her mouth with his. 

He kissed her desperately, trying to forget... trying to lose himself in her. He easily undid the hooks at her back moved his hand under her loose bra, cupping warm skin, feeling her nipple pebble in response. "Sarah," he whispered huskily. She wouldn't expect forever from him. She wouldn't want him to stop, to admire her from across a room, to just sit there and want her into the next century. No, she was here, in his arms, not asking him for anything... not a thing, liking him for who he was... taking and giving, just the way it was supposed to be, the way it was before _he_ came crashing into Dean's live. "Want you, right now," he said, almost like he'd just made the decision.

She gave a throaty chuckle as her hips bucked upward against his, "Thought I was going to have to talk you into it." She spoke softly, smiling up at him, dimples showing. 

* 

Sam didn't even bother to park his car as he pulled up to Dean's house, only stopped it out front, shutting it off and running for the house in one fluid movement.   
He had stopped feeling anything from Dean for a while now, and that more than anything else had him panicked. He remembered the room in Dean's basement, but why would he go there? What was going on? Something was wrong, it had to be. He remembered Dean talking about giving whatever was necessary to some woman in exchange for information. Had he been doing that? Had something happened to him after? Why couldn't he feel...? 

Sam was climbing into Dean's window before he could finish the thought, calling for him, only to receive no answer. He moved through the house, heading toward the basement, his fear, anger, hurt, heartache, and confusion growing as he went, until Sam's emotions were in a jumbled tornado inside him. 

"Dean!!!" he stopped in front of the metal door to the safe room and tried to open it. Locked. Sam pounded on the door, "Dean!!! Open the goddamn door!" he pounded harder, bending and warping the metal, making the door bow inward. "DEAN!!!"

Dean had been tugging her bra off when the pounding broke through his hazy mind. They both got up quickly. He heard Sam's voice, and one look at her half naked body and he knew there was gonna be a problem. "Fuck... Sarah, listen to me. When I open that door, I'm gonna distract the guy pounding on it, and you're gonna go straight to your car and get out of here, okay?" He could see the confusion on her face, and the way she looked at the weapons on his wall. "No, I have to deal with this differently." He gave her a hard kiss, though his heart wasn't in it, then moved her to the side of the door. "Remember... straight out, don't turn back. I'll call you later," he promised. "It'll be fine."

As Dean started to unbar the door, his heart pounded against his chest. Fear, anger, excitement... sometimes it was all the same when it came to Sam. Giving her a last look, he pulled the door open. "Nice to see you've learned to knock, but this is a bit extreme, don't you think?" Taking in the severe look on Sam's face, the tension in his body and darkness of his eyes, he knew this wasn't good. He stepped back, giving Sam the choice of backing off, or coming in. In either case, he needed the doorway clear so Sarah could get out.

Sam stood there a brief moment, his eyes taking in Dean's kiss swollen lips, the girl standing there half undressed, the cot behind them messed, sheets in disarray and anger, hurt and the need to hurt someone, something, the way he was hurting rushed through Sam with such force it almost knocked him to his knees. 

Pushing his way into the room, Sam grabbed for the first thing he came to, a large shelving unit that was attached to the wall and ripped it completely away from it's fastenings, lifting it up and throwing it across the room before inky black eyes settle on the girl before him. Sam's lips curled, a low snarl tearing from his throat as he bared his fangs.

Stepping in front of Sarah and hoping to block her from Sam's furious view, Dean put his arms up. "Whoa, Sam, calm down. Sam..." He turned and hissed, "Go!" And watched as she pulled her bra into place and ran out of the room.

Sam's eyes were still laser focused on the door, which made Dean nervous. He stepped back and slammed it shut. "Leave her out of this. This is between _you_ and _me_... and from where I'm standing, there is no you and me."

That was when all hell broke loose. Stuff that had been on the shelving Sam had thrown across the room suddenly started to fly, whipping around the room. Dean ducked, cursing as things smashed into each other. "Stop it, stop Sam... Goddamnit, stop this. You have no right, NO RIGHT!" he shouted over the noise.

Sam's eyes met and clashed with Dean's a second before he was on him, grabbing him and slamming him back against the wall, fangs bared, face contorted in absolute rage. Objects behind them continued to swirl and smash against the walls, a few of them coming dangerously close to Dean's head. "Give me one good reason **not** to end my pain right now!" Sam snarled.

The force with which he hit the wall made Dean see a flash of white. He struggled, trying to push Sam away, very aware of the objects slamming into the wall near him... a clear threat. He was too angry to try to talk Sam down, more than one of them was at the end of his rope. 

"Pain? That's not pain Sam. Where was your fucking pain when you were gone, huh? Where was it when I was getting the crap beat out of me, or when I was calling? Where was it when you fucking laughed with your goddamned brother... brothers at me? Huh. This isn't pain, you know what this is? This is - you - angry because you can't control me." He slammed his fists into Sam's immovable body. "Don't want me, but no one else can have me, is that it? Well fuck that, and fuck you Sam," he shouted.

"I FELT EVERYTHING! I felt your pain! I cried over you half the time I was gone!" Sam closed his eyes, grit his teeth, "I LEFT SO I WOULDN'T KILL YOU, YOU IDIOT!" Sam yelled, glaring at Dean, "Yes, I was in that much agony, I was going to end you, Dean. My father told me to get away, to be sure and not do it in anger. You were going to fuck someone else... FOR INFORMATION! Glad I meant SO MUCH TO YOU! FUCK!" Sam slammed a free fist into the wall near Dean's head. "And I never ever laughed at you. Not once, not ever!" he glared harder, "The only crime I _ever_ committed was loving you! I needed you to miss me, to figure out that you loved me!" 

Plaster from the wall covered Dean's shoulder. He was breathing hard, staring at the damage and trying to get away. "I didn't fuck anyone, and you fucking know it," he jabbed his finger in Sam's chest. "You know I didn't, but you still disappeared. Wouldn't call... wouldn't answer... it was like you'd never been here. I called, I begged, I fucking put my heart out and to who? Your fucking brother, the whole goddamned clan? Nah... this isn't about love, this isn't about pain... this is about putting me in my place, punishing me> Yeah, it’s your kinky little side peeking out. Where's the whip Sam, is that what comes next? Huh. You want me to say 'daddy, I'm sorry?'" 

_I didn't know you wouldn’t sleep with her until after I was gone. I couldn't call you, Dean. I needed to know if you really loved me or not. My brother can read minds, help me, help me know... be certain... it hurts that I can't give you..._ Sam's thoughts froze there as he felt as though Dean had just slapped him. The air left his lungs in a rush, eyes wide as his heart clenched. It was the one thing he was most ashamed of, what he liked, and for Dean to make it sound so horrible, to twist it into something else...

It was a dangerous game he was playing, and the increase in things slamming and shattering told him that. But he needed Sam off balance. "Want to tie me up? Keep me to yourself even when you won't fuck me?" Dean laughed. "Want a trophy?"

As emotions flickered across Sam's face, Dean chose the moment to use all the force he could to punch him in the face and shove him back. On hunter's instincts, he grabbed the chains giving off a bluish light, and wrapped them around a semi-stunned Sam, shoving him back and hooking the links into hardware that was drilled right into the steel beams framing of the safe room. 

Sam barely felt the punch, his mind and body still numbed by words that had hurt him like nothing else ever had before. He stood in a daze, his head, emotions swimming. His powers, the TK gave testament to that fact as more items crashed haphazardly about the room with no real direction or purpose, much like Sam felt.

He kept away from Sam's hands, which were free, and he pulled an extra length of chain across the front of Sam's legs and secured it as well, before straightening, and backing away, his eyes locking with Sam's.

Sam's dark eyes gazed back at Dean, though something inside him snapped and broke, just like it always did when he was captured, all emotion left his face, his body going semi-limp in the chains. Whatever they wanted, Sam always gave, gave until it hurt too badly and then he found a way to get free, or tried to. But, they always wanted something from him, always, always asked for more than he was able to give. On some ironic twisted note, it shouldn't have shocked him that Dean had bound him like the others. The only difference was, the pain had come first this time. 

Seeing the change come over Sam, Dean remembered only too well how he'd looked at that facility. How hopeless he'd been. How protective Dean had felt over him. He blanched and backed away, finally sitting heavily down on the cot, eyes still on Sam. It took a few more minutes, but every item in the room stopped flying about, landing onto the floor as the light of life and the heat of anger were extinguished from Sam's eyes, leaving them blank and hollow.

Leaning his elbows on his knees, Dean put his face in his hands. As angry as he'd been, this wasn't what he'd wanted. Tears started to slip out of the corners of his eyes and he wiped them away, looking back at Sam. The absolute quiet after the storm was strange. All the pent up words he'd stored, wanted to force Sam to listen to, they fell away.

Dean didn't know how much time passed. Just that his gut ached. His heart hurt. He maybe wanted to die... maybe he should have let Sam end him, like he'd threatened. When he finally pushed up off the cot and approached Sam, he drew in real close... knowing Sam's hands were free, that he could easily kill him, but not believing that would happen... not when Sam had lost his fight like this.

He put his face in the crook of Sam's neck, selfishly drawing in his scent. He'd missed it so fucking bad. "I'm gonna... I'll call Alice to let you go, or your dad, okay? Then I'll be gone Sam. You can stay with them here," he sniffled and could have kicked himself for it. "I don't want to hurt you, especially not like this. I just... I didn't know what else to do. I'm sorry." 

As Dean approached him, Sam turned his head, clenched his jaw and waited, like he always did. His eyes slipped closed as he tried to think of better things, better times. Home. Alice. A little blond -haired boy who looked up to him and smiled at him through the window at night.

Swallowing over the hard knot in his throat, Dean started pulling away from the person he'd come to need so badly, despite having fought against his feelings. 

Sam still didn't move, didn't answer, only after he felt Dean pull away, did his lips part slightly. "Don't leave me," he said softly, nearly too softly to be heard, "please."

"Stay until they come?" He was pretty sure Alice would want to rip his head off. He sniffled again, and nodded. "I have to get the phone." He knew Sam had to be afraid of being left alone. "You're gonna be okay."

A tear ran from the corner of Sam's eye, dripped down onto his tee. Slowly he opened his eyes and turned his head to look at Dean. "No," he shook his head, "don't leave me."

Glancing at the door, Dean knew it wasn't an option. Stepping close again, he leaned into Sam, hugging him. "Don't cry Sammy, please don't. I can't stand it." He felt his own tears threaten to come again. "You left _me_ Sam. I didn't know what to do. I don't know what to do now." He wanted to set him free right now, he probably should, but he couldn't bring himself to pull away just yet. 

Sam slowly moved his hands, fingers walking up Dean's sides, holding onto him as he closed his eyes, let his head fall back against the wall. "Wanted to know that you loved me." He turned his head away, bit his lip, "You don't know how sorry I am that I can't give you what you want. I hurt everyday... it's worse than anything I've ever felt before."

"I'm sorry too," he shook his head and felt a tear slip down his face. "I thought we were doing okay... not perfect, but okay," Dean said thickly, remembering the days before Sam left him. "I told you... I told your brother," his voice got a bit bitter, "that I did, I do love you. It was days ago. I guess..." his gut clenched as he looked into Sam's eyes. "It's not enough?"

Sam slowly shook his head, "I won't share you. I can't. I love you too much." He licked his lips, "What if it were me? Could you share me? Someone else touching me, smelling chocolate chip cookies... someone else doing things with me that you can only dream about doing..." his lip quivered, "It kills me... and I can't... I can't do it anymore." he turned his head away, "Its worse than being cut open, because then, then I could leave, just let go, not feel... anything... I had a way of escape. I thought of home, of Alice," he slowly turned his head, looking back at Dean, "of you."

As Sam's words washed over Dean, he imagined someone else's hands on Sam. Hell, he'd imagined it when he'd thought they might be serious about Rosalie. Even now, the thought made him tense, though back then he'd thought he could deal with it. He hadn't felt this way about Sam yet, back then. Hadn't known how deep he was into this... this weird relationship they had. "No," he whispered near Sam's ear. "I don't want to share you. I know what you mean now, I didn't before." 

He took a breath, daring to brush his mouth over Sam's jaw. "Before you left, I hadn't... not for a long time," he raised his head. Well for him a month was a long time. "And after," he shook his head. "I tried once but... Until today, there was no one I'd have gone through with it with. And today was because... dammit Sam, I hurt too. Every time you didn't answer my calls, every time you didn't call me when I... you _always_ used to call me when I touched myself." He swallowed again. "I couldn't get through, so I gave up. And she was so much like you, maybe I could for one moment in time... have you. I know you don't get that, I know you're a virgin, I know..." unable to explain, he was starting to get agitated.

"I know you didn't. And I know when and what happened." He looked into Dean's eyes, "Felt it, remember?" He sighed and looked away, "I was in my room, the one Bella made up for me, laying on my bed, and I felt it. I knew... " his sentence died off as he closed his eyes. 

Turning his head, Sam looked back at Dean, "Having someone that looks like me, isn't having _me_ , I'm a virgin and I know that much,” he scoffed and closed his eyes as he swallowed. "Hell, if that was the case, I could have just picked up anyone who looked like you and fucked them, you never would have known." He laughed harshly, "be glad of that. If they were human, I could have done to them what I only dream about doing with you and if it went too far, I wouldn't have cared," he shrugged slightly, "because they wouldn't have been you. It wouldn't have mattered to me if I drank them dry or not. I wouldn't have been terrified every second that I might hold on too hard or cling too tightly. If I broke them, they would be just some no one that didn't mean the world to me," he looked back at Dean, "unlike you." 

Dean didn't dare tell him, but he didn't believe that there was someone out there that Sam wouldn't worry about draining. He was full of crap, unless he meant some bad guy. And he also still didn't buy that Sam couldn't control himself, but they'd never agree on that. Sam would never listen to him when it came to that, he never had. 

Flinching away from that look, Dean looked at a spot on the wall above Sam's head. "So... you came to stop me? And now what?" he shifted his gaze back to lock with Sam's. "You planning on leaving me again?" He liked things to be cut and dry, clear. And he wasn't getting that from Sam. But maybe he didn't really want an answer. Maybe it was easier to deal with it when he thought he'd be doing the walking away, but hearing Sam say it might kill him.

Sam slowly shook his head, "No. I didn't come here to stop you. I was coming home, because a very wise and beautiful young lady asked me over tea this morning and asked what it was I wanted most... and then she told me to go get it." He tilted his head to the side as he looked at Dean. Sighing he looked away, "I was half way here when I felt her hands on you... as I got closer the feelings vanished and I panicked, I thought something happened to you...something bad. When you opened that door, I..." he shook his head, "something inside me snapped and I was right back to where I was the night you told me you were going to do whatever necessary to get your information."

Dean nodded. "I lied that night. I would have done _almost_ anything to get my information." God he'd missed Sam’s scent. Fuck, he knew he was being weird but he couldn't help himself. He drew in another long breath and moved back a little. "And now?" He shifted his weight from one leg to the other. "What happens now that you... well you walked in on almost... Is it over? Is it starting up? What Sam?"

Sam shook his head, "I don't know." the words were whisper soft, his expression falling into one of sadness. "I only knew the answer to the question asked of me this morning. I - I can't answer this one." His hands slowly pulled away from they’d been barely touching Dean. He closed his eyes. "It's up to you. What does Dean Winchester want? Either walk from the room and call my family or be with me and only me." 

Sam held his breath, hands slowly clenching into fists at his sides as he waited for the sound of the door opening, waited for Dean to walk out of the room and never come back. He turned his head away, keeping his eyes closed. It was one thing to give Dean an easy out, it was another to watch it happen.

Shoving his hands into his pockets, Dean did some thinking. "I want what I always wanted. You. No holds barred." He didn't mince his words. He didn't care if Sam was afraid. He'd asked, and that was his answer. "If you can't give me that, then you give me the second best thing... you give me everything you can. You don't pull away from me one moment sooner than... then ground zero. You won't share me, not with anyone, but I won't be controlled. I talk to people the way I want, I call someone beautiful... you don't fly off the handle." He gave Sam a pointed look. There was no way he would, could change his way of relating with people, women. He would always fall into his pattern of flirting, and Sam wasn't gonna get to hold that against him. "And I get some privacy. I'm not a Cullen. Some things, I don't like to share. Maybe that'll change, maybe it won't," he shrugged. "Tell me... is it do-able?"

It was his turn to hold his breath. His turn to anticipate rejection. His turn to ball his hands and count the seconds.

Sam didn't move, didn't flinch as he looked at Dean, hadn't since Dean had started speaking, had only opened his eyes and watched him. Truth be told, he wasn't so sure he had even blinked. He licked his lips, "If you call them beautiful, what are you gonna call me?" his head tilted slightly to the side as he drew in a shaky breath.

"Handsome. Baby. Mine," Dean cocked his head. "For starters."

The corner of Sam's lips curved upward slightly as he nodded. "Sounds good," he told him softly.

"Yeah? And what are you gonna call me?" He walked up to Sam and brought his mouth inches from the vampire's.

Sam's lips curved into a full smile, dimples showing, "'Pain in my ass'? Or how about, 'Hard to get along with'? Or, I could just shorten it to 'Ouch'." He fought back the snicker that threatened to spill over.

Dean made a face but was relieved by the smile Sam was giving. "Or how about ‘sexy’ or... ‘lover’." Before Sam could answer, he swooped in and covered Sam's mouth with his, kissing him at first slowly, but then deepening it, showing him how much he'd fucking missed this... missed him. He cupped the side of Sam's face for control, kissing him harder, not willing to take 'no' or even 'slow down' for an answer. When he pulled back, he was breathing hard, and licking Sam's taste off his lips. "In case you hadn't noticed, I like to have my cookies and eat them too." 

As soon as Dean's lips met his, Sam felt liquid fire race through his body, his teeth ached, eyes darkening behind closed lids, blood pounded in his temples. He felt his cock swell, twitching in response to Dean's mouth, his taste, to kissing him again after so long. In some abstract corner of Sam's mind he laughed at himself, at the idea that a month was a long time. 

His hands rose gripping Dean's waist, pulling him closer, reaching as far as he could until the chains dug into his flesh, but he didn't care. All he cared about was Dean, how he felt, tasted, that he was there with him, kissing _him_.

Feeling the distinct hardness pressing into his belly, Dean gave a wicked grin. "And instead of 'pain in your ass,' you might want to go for accuracy and call me 'pain in your groin,' just saying," he winked.

Sam swallowed, nodding, "Maybe... teeth ache too, could go with that, but then you would be like a cavity." He smiled as he pulled Dean closer, tried to reach upward only to be stopped by the chains. Sam looked down at them, then back up at Dean, "Now who's the kinky one?"

"Looks like I can learn new tricks," Dean answered. "Sam, what I said before about tying me--"

The sparkle faded from Sam's eyes as he hung his head, shifted his feet nervously, "I know... I'm sick. I'm sorry. I won't," he shook his head, "I'm sorry."

"No. Sam, no," he gripped Sam's chin and forced him to look in his eyes. "It's not sick... it's just a kink, that's all. I've got this freaky one for cookies now," he shook his head, making light of it. "I'd let you tie me up anytime. _Only you._ I think it could be fun," he nodded. "But ah... now you're the one that's tied up and I don't plan on wasting this opportunity. Remember when you wanted to watch me jack off?"

Sam nodded, "Yeah... I tried, but... I was afraid I was going to hurt you."

"You're gonna watch me all the way now, and you're not gonna hurt anyone." He moved his mouth over Sam's and spoke against it. "Tell me when you're ready, baby."

Sam moaned softly, his eyes closing as he shifted his weight, fingers digging into Dean's sides. He leaned his head forward, brushing his lips against Dean's even as his teeth seemed to ache more, the pounding in his temples beat harder, the sound of Dean's blood rushing through his veins all he could hear. He nodded, a small whimper escaping, "I'm ready," he answered softly, as his lashes fluttered, eyes opening.

"Good." Smiling, Dean backed away. He walked to a shelf, then bent down to where all its former contents had fallen, and picked up a torn skin mag. "Still making shambles of my place," he muttered, heading to the cot, unzipping his pants and sitting down. He pushed his shorts down and freed himself, eyes meeting Sam's. God they were dark, dangerous... like that day in the shower when Dean had known Sam was on the very edge.

He widened his knees to let Sam see, then started to look through the magazine, trying to find what he wanted.

Sam's eyes were laser focused on Dean's body, on his erection, jutting upward toward his stomach, on the idea that he was going to watch him and that he couldn't hurt him this time, even though ever cell in his body was screaming at him to launch himself at Dean now, take what he wanted, what he needed. 

He'd seen Dean pick up the magazine and some small part of Sam had ached that it wasn't _him_ that Dean would be coming to the sight of, that it wasn't _him_ he'd be thinking about, but he had pushed those feelings away. He could talk to Emmett about them later, then again, maybe Jasper would be better.

After a few minutes, Dean tossed the magazine aside and got up. He approached Sam, loosened the chains, and told him. "Put your hands under." He felt Sam's reluctance, but the vampire did as he asked, and when Dean re-secured the chain, his hands were immobile too.

He ran his hand over Sam's face, knowing his fangs could be a threat, but right now his vampire was still in control. He used his thumb to pull Sam's lower lip down and imagined his cock in Sam's mouth. That got his blood rushing straight to his cock. Then he messed Sam's hair up, and licked his lips, leaving a sheen behind as he worked his hands down Sam's body. 

Sam watched Dean, inky black eyes taking in his every movement, though Sam never said a word, stood stock still save for his heaving breaths. His jaw clenched so hard it was a wonder he wasn't breaking teeth.

His undid Sam's button, then tugged his zipper down. "I did this before. In a dream once. I won't be interrupted again." Gripping Sam's jeans, he pulled them halfway down, including his shorts. 

Sam gasped softly, as he watched Dean, feeling rather exposed and vulnerable. This wasn't the way Sam had imagined this going. This was dangerous, this was deadly, this was damn right stupid. 

His teeth ached so badly Sam was nearly ready to growl with the pain, the blood thundered in his temples and the sound, the sweet sound of Dean's blood, his scent, filled Sam's senses making him nearly dizzy. 

Dropping down to his knees, he took Sam in his hand and experimentally licked him from tip to shaft, and back. 

"Dean, you can't...." and then he was, Sam felt Dean's tongue against his shaft, watched him as he did it, eyes wide, unable to believe Dean was really tempting fate like that. Sensations Sam had never known before shot threw him, pleasure and such pain from the bloodlust. He squeezed his eyes closed, his head slamming back against the wall with a low groan as his hands clenched into fists.

Dean looked up to be sure that was a good groan. Smiling, he brushed his mouth against Sam's cock, speaking against it. "Not one second before ground zero, Sam. I want it all, everything you can give me." Opening his mouth, he sucked Sam's tip in, swirling his tongue around and feeling the vampire tense and thrash slightly. The chains held, the way he knew they would. 

"I knew what you'd feel like, not what you'd taste like," he said, before lowering his mouth and sucking more of Sam inside. Every motion of his tongue earned him a response. The feeling of power was almost overwhelming. As he got Sam harder, working his hands and mouth in unison, his own cock ached for release. Much better than some stupid magazine. This was the real thing.

He pulled his mouth off and staying on his knees, crawled on all fours back to the cot, and pulled himself up. This time when he looked up at Sam, his own eyes were filled with heat. "You looked so fucked out... and it's making me so damned hard Sam. See how hard I am for you? Need you so bad." Dean leaned back slightly and started to stroke himself, groaning slightly. Tilting his head way back, he watched Sam from under his lashes. 

Sam nodded, a soft half whimper half moan leaving him as he watched Dean, listened to his soft groans, the way he looked stroking himself. Sam's own cock ached, leaking precome as he stood watching, biting his lip until he tasted his own blood. His teeth ached, the blood pounded in his temples, Dean's scent, the sound of his blood, it was no better across the room than it had been right before him. He pulled at the chains as instinct, nature, his nature, told him to go, to take, to feed this hunger, to possess. "Dean..." 

Watching Sam thrash like that was a complete turn on. Dean felt a sheen of sweat covering his body as he watched and fucked his fist to the image. "Want me? As bad as I want you?" he asked, between labored breaths. "Do you want to fuck me? Be in my mouth? Want to ride me?" he asked, his hips lifting up as he stroked himself faster. "Lick your lips for me Sam."

Sam's lips parted, his head falling back against the wall at Dean's questions. He needed to stop, to stop asking those things, things that had images floating in Sam's mind, that had him thinking about doing them, had him trying to talk himself into lying and telling Dean he could release him, that it would be okay, that he could fight the need, the bloodlust. 

"Oh God...Dean..." Sam's head rolled against the wall as he fought to hold back, fought to not give into the evil thoughts running through his head, the lies he could tell that would make Dean release him so he could attack and take, possess and feed. 

Sam did as Dean asked, his tongue darting out to lick his lips, as he slowly raised his head. Eyes impossibly black, like damnation, gazed at Dean, Sam's lip curled back revealing his fangs as he looked at him, a low snarl leaving him. His teeth ached beyond words to describe it, and the blood pounded so hard in his temples it was enough to drive him mad. But, above it all was the sweet musical sound of Dean's blood that called to him like a lover, singing a sweet Siren's song to him, whispering promises that it couldn't, wouldn't fulfill. 

"Ground zero." Sam told him, his voice a raw whisper, laser focused on Dean.

Giving a strained nod, Dean came to the absolute look of lust on Sam's face. He knew the vampire wanted him in more ways than any human could understand, that his eyes were dark as onyx for him, that his muscles were pulling against the chains, trying to get them off... to get to him, that he needed him that much. Biting his lower lip, he raised his hips one more time and gave a strangled cry as he exploded, coming all over his hand and shooting his spunk almost to Sam. "Ah... God Sam. Ground zero's good... oh God." Waves of heat were still crashing over him, as he dropped back, but rolled to the side to be able to see Sam.

Sam watched through lust-filled eyes as Dean came, his lust and bloodlust higher than they had ever been in his life, in one burst of energy, Sam threw himself against the chains trying to get free, to get to Dean, to end this pain, the hunger, the want, the need to possess. Metal dug into his flesh, cutting into him where it did. Blood oozed from the wounds, but Sam only struggled harder.

"No, don't hurt yourself," Dean said, getting off the cot and looking down at Sam's cock, still heavy and aroused. "I'll take care of that." Leaning in, he started to move to kiss Sam's throat but saw that his fangs were fully extended for the first time ever. And the glint in his eyes, there was a something he didn't quite recognize in them.

"Don't." Sam bit the word out, a small growl following after it, "Get back. Go. We went too far." Sam tugged at the chains again, and droplets of blood dotted his tee along with the cuts on his arms.

Dean shook his head 'no.' "I'm not leaving you like this." Slowly lowering, he pushed Sam's shirt up to where the chain stopped him, and kissed his belly. "You're not gonna hurt me, because you can't. I don't want you to hurt yourself, but you'll heal.” 

Stubborn ass. Didn't Dean get that he was trying to protect him? Dark eyes followed Dean's movements as he slowly lowered. Sam's stomach muscles trembled under the soft touch of Dean's lips.

“Come in my mouth, Sam." That was his only warning before Dean deep throated Sam, taking him as far into this mouth as he could and humming around his hard length. If he hadn't been prepared, the aggressive bucking of the vampire's hips might have choked him. He wasn't gonna let that, or the threats or anything else stop him. Single mindedly, he sucked up and down Sam's shaft, his head moving back and forth, his hand cupping Sam's balls and squeezing them lightly, almost too lightly from how Sam was straining to for more. 

Sam gasped, a strangled half shout half growl leaving him as his head fell back against the wall when Dean deep throated is aching cock. Sam squeezed his eye closed, teeth gritted together. Small growls and moans escaping as Dean worked him, touched him in ways no person ever had. 

It wasn't long before Sam was writhing under Dean's touch, his breaths panting out, even as he fought against every feeling running through him. "I can't... please... stop... I don't want to hurt you.... _oh my God! Dean.._ " Sam's hips bucked a couple more times as his balls drew up and then he was coming hard down Dean's throat. Sam's shocked gasp and small groans filled the room, his lips parted, eyes still squeezed closed.

Dean was concentrating so hard, the words from Sam meant nothing other than proof of the vampire's pleasure. As Sam started to ride his mouth harder, Dean pulled slightly back and and let him have his way. Then he was swallowing the proof of Sam's need, and all he could think of was this was Sam's first time ... ever... That he was Sam's first time. When he pulled his mouth off and rested his cheek against Sam's powerful thigh, he smiled. "Popped your cherry..." He would have been smug, but hell, he was having a hard enough time keeping his other emotions in check.

Sam stood gasping in breaths he really didn't need, as he tried to settle the feelings inside of him. He nodded, "Yeah, guess so." was all he could manage to reply. Sam stilled completely, stopped his breathing as he centered himself. "Well, we know how to make me not dangerous now." He gave a weak smile.

"Sweet as a kitten," Dean nodded, kissing Sam's now flaccid cock, before pulling his shorts up, then tugging his jeans into place. Licking his lips, he stood up and searched Sam's eyes, still dark, but with much less edge. He started to put his own clothes together, still staring at Sam. "So...will there be a next time?"

Sam licked his lips as he thought about that. "I think I got over stimulated, as long as we don't.. as long as _you_ don't do that, I think I can manage to hold back a bit."

"Sure, I'll hold back." Right... didn't Sam know who he was asking that of? He didn't dare ask but he knew Sam could see it in his eyes. "Fangs back in place? Can I kiss you?"

Sam grinned as he ran his tongue over his teeth, "Wanna find out?"

"Thought you'd never ask." As he brought their mouths together in slow, lingering kiss, Dean blindly searched the wall, and released the chain. Part of it fell to the ground with a loud clatter, while the rest stayed trapped between Sam and the wall. He broke the kiss, looked into Sam's face, and kissed him again, this time carefully using his tongue to search for fangs.

Sam's own tongue dodged in front of Dean's over his fang before he pulled his mouth away, "Looking for trouble?" Sam asked him, quirking a brow. "You find my fang and get cut and we'll be back to ground zero so fast you're head will spin."

"Just testing your tongue and your speed. You pass," Dean answered. "Next on your exam will be dexterity and flexibility. Happy to work on it with you," he said in his best 'teacher's voice.' 

Sam huffed and shook his head. Dexterity and flexibility. _He_ wasn't the one who broke so easily.

Then he looked around the room, now in shambles. "You know... I had the upstairs vamp-proofed while you were gone. And now this..." he swept his arm around. It was true, he'd had the guys fixing the roof and parts of the outside of the house turn almost all of the furniture in his house into fixtures... fixed to the ground or the walls. "Bet you didn't bring a broom," he sighed. 

"So, I heard. I was told you had a bunch of people working on the house for a while," Sam blinked, eyes widening slightly, "Uh, I mean... Oh, really? And, um, no. No broom. But, I know this guy who can suck the chrome off a bumper..." Sam gave him a weighty look. "Or at least _my_ bumper."

"Hmph. Don't let that get around," Dean suggested, giving him a look in return. "Wait till I show you what else I can do to your bumper, _beautiful_ ," he slapped Sam's ass and walked out.

Sam glared after him, "Hey! I thought that was..." Sam fastened his jeans. "What was that supposed to mean, I thought I was handsome or baby or mine!" he called after him, as he hurried out of the room. _And what the hell else could he do to his_ _bumper_?


	15. Chapter 15

Dean opened the box and started making his mac and cheese. "Sex gets me hungry," he explained, grinning at Sam over his shoulder before reaching for a spoon. Maybe things would work out. Maybe they'd come to a place where they could. He started whistling and thinking ahead about not having to sleep alone at night.

Sam stood at the counter of Dean's kitchen, watching him, when he pulled out his cell. "I should call my family, tell them I'm back." Sam told him, as he pushed the send button on his cell, then put the phone on speaker, laying it on the counter in front of him.

Wow, he hadn't told them first. That was different. As far as Dean knew, the Cullens told each other every damned thing. Okay, that thought had him tensing, but he told himself there was nothing to worry about. Sam would just say he was here and not go onto details.

The phone rang twice before it was answered, "Hello?" 

Sam smiled. "Hey, Alice, it's me," Sam told her, "I'm back home. I came back." 

"Sam!? Oh my God!" She was yelling, 'Sam's home', obviously to the others, her voice having gotten slightly muffled for that moment. 

"Sam, where are you?" she asked him. 

Sam glanced over at Dean, a small smile on his face, "I'm at Dean's." 

"What!!?? Oh, Sam, no." her voice went from happy, excited, to horrified and sad. 

"What's the matter?" Jasper asked. 

"Sam's at Dean's." Alice told him. 

"Why?" Jasper asked her, "Why are you at Dean's, Sam?" 

"Bella and I had a talk this morning, she made me see that I needed to be here... with Dean," Sam answered. 

"Love her, but she isn't the brightest girl, is she?" Alice muttered. 

"I dunno, he seems okay." Jasper answered. 

"Sam, are you okay?" Alice asked him. 

Sam chuckled, "I'm fine. It's okay, really. I - we argued. He was... someone was here with him and I was going to kill Dean over it, but, we worked it out."

Did he have to sound so casual about it? Dean muttered under his breath, stirring his food and hoping the conversation would be over soon. He was having trouble keeping his mouth shut at the groans of horror that Sam was here at his place. The guy was a hundred plus, and they thought he couldn't make his own decisions, he fumed in silence.

"He what!?" Alice asked, anger seeping into her voice. 

"Alice, it's okay... we had sex." Sam told her. 

There was a long silence. That is, except for Dean's spoon clattering against the counter. He was futilely waving his arms in and 'enough' motion.

"How did you two manage that?" Alice and Jasper seemed to ask in unison. 

"Well, it wasn't all the way sex... um, he blew me." Sam answered. 

Alice gasped and Jasper made a sound like he was mulling it over. "How did you not hurt him, Sam?" Jasper asked. 

"Well, he chained me up." Sam answered. 

"So?" Jasper asked, confused. 

"It was that same metal, like at the facility." 

"I'm gonna kill him." Alice nearly snarled. 

"Alice! Wait! No! Alice! Emmett, grab her!" Jasper shouted, panicked. 

"What's the matter with Alice?" Rosalie asked. 

Jasper sighed, "Dean blew Sam, chained him up and Alice wants to kill Dean now."

Completely tense now, Dean glared daggers at Sam. This was his fault. Dammit. Did he WANT to rile up his family? They already hated him, and the feeling was mutual, but there was no reason to fan the flames.

"How the hell did Dean do that from here when Sam's in Canada?" Rosalie snapped, sounding very put out by the entire conversation. 

"He didn't. Sam's back." Jasper told her. 

"Oh... well, Dean better hide, Alice is vicious." Rosalie snickered. 

"Very funny, Ros." Jasper grumbled. 

"I got her, its cool. I got her!" Emmett called, his voice drawing closer. 

"What's the problem?" Emmett asked. 

"That bastard chained up Sam!" Alice spat angrily. 

"He blew Sam" Jasper explained. 

"Wow... that's something. Sam must be hung like a horse for Dean to do that from here." Emmett snickered. 

There was an audible smacking sound. 

"Ow!" came Emmett's retort, "You hit me!" 

"You deserved it." Alice snipped. "Sam's back and over at that monster's house right now." 

"What!? You came back? After I took you all the way to friggin Canada!?" Emmett asked, sounding rather bothered by the fact. 

"Yeah, I came back. Look, I need to be here, for Dean and I to make this work. He... he loves me too. It's okay."

Now Dean was waving furiously. Mouthing silently, 'enough Sam. Hang up. No more, no more.'

There was a long silence on the other end of the phone. 

"So, how was it?" Jasper asked, finally cutting through the silence. 

Sam grinned, as he glanced up at Dean, "Awesome." 

"Can he suck the chrome off a bumper?" Emmett chimed in. 

Sam chuckled nodding, "I think so." 

Emmett laughed, "It's those lips. I knew it."

"Hang up." This time Dean's demand was audible. They were talking about _his_ mouth and what or how he sucked and what the hell...

Another smacking sound. 

"Ow!" Emmett grumbled. 

"What's going on in here?" Esme's asked. 

"Sam's back, he's at Dean's. Dean blew him." Rosalie filled her in. 

Esme gasped, "Sam!? Is that true? You're back... and Dean...?" 

Sam blushed slightly and nodded, a wide grin on his face, "Yes, mom, all true. Rosalie's correct." 

"Oh! That's wonderful! Wait until I tell Carlisle!" she gasped, "You know he's going to have questions, like how you two managed, is Dean alright, did you enjoy it completely..." her voice trailed off as she walked from the room.

"So, you're really, okay then, Sam?" Alice asked, sounding less like she wanted to kill someone. 

"I'm fine, Alice," Sam assured her, self consciously lifting a hand to cover the blood dots staining his tee, as though she could see them. 

"So, I guess this means he popped your cherry, huh?" Alice asked, a smile in her voice. 

"Yeah, guess so." Sam echoed his reply from earlier. 

"I want proof." Emmett announced suddenly. 

"Oh! Good idea!" Alice chimed in, Jasper muttered something and then Rosalie was grumbling about hanging up the phone just before it went dead. 

Sam looked up from the phone at Dean a bewildered expression on his face. Nah, they wouldn't really... I mean, they can't be on their way _here_.

"What... can't what?" Burning his hand, Dean cursed. "I can't believe you did that to me Sam. What part of privacy did you not get? Telling the details of what we did, that's... that's not privacy. That's telling private facts. Jesus... and your mom." He gave a shudder. "Next time I blow you, all I'm going to be imagining is your damn family in cheerleader outfits yelling on the sidelines."

Fuming, he put some of the mac and cheese in a bowl and gave Sam another long look. "Seriously. Maybe before you call them with details you should run it by me. What... what's wrong?" He could tell he'd missed something.

Sam frowned, "I didn't tell them _everything_ and I didn't tell my mom, Ros did. Um," Sam looked toward the front door and back at Dean, "If they show up... be nice, huh? They _are_ my family."

"They're not showing up, Sam. We didn't invite them." He stabbed his food with a fork and bringing it to his mouth, chewed with unnecessary force. "Cause, you know... it's not polite to show up anywhere without an invite." 

Sam raised an eyebrow and looked uncomfortable, "Uh, Dean...have you met my family? We don't wait for invitations... anywhere. It's the great thing about being indestructible, you can go where you want, when you want and no one can really stop you."

"I think I'm going to invest in garlic and stakes," he muttered. "You could tell 'em 'no'." 

Sam opened his mouth to answer that, to explain that garlic and stakes only worked in the movies, that if he said 'no', it would only make them get there faster thinking something was wrong, but before he could get a word out, Emmett and Alice came running down the stairs, Jasper and Rosalie walking through the front door like they owned the place. _Uh-oh..._ Sam glanced over at Dean for his reaction as his brothers and sisters hurried over to him.

Nah...nah... nah... he did _not_ have vampires spilling into his house from every entrance. Yeah, he did! "Sam," he groaned, then noticed Alice's expression changing, hardening the way Sam's did when he was angry. Without hesitation, he quickly moved partly behind Sam. If it was the chains thing, she'd better get over it fast. He could understand it bugging her... it had bugged him as well, but they'd turned it around and made it into something good. "Sorry but, we were about to go out. This little visit will have to happen some other time."

Before Sam had a chance to respond to much of anything, Alice was in front of him with Rosalie and the two of them were lifting his shirt to check his 'wounds' that weren't even wounds anymore. Emmett and Jasper had started to circle around him toward Dean.

"Funny," Emmett tilted his head to the side, taking in Dean's bowl of food, "you don't look ready to go anywhere." his eyes narrowed slightly, "What's the matter, Dean?" 

"He's scared that we're going to kill him for chaining up Sam. Well, that and he doesn't seem to like us being here very much." Jasper answered his brother as they both stepped up closer to Dean. 

"I just want to get a good sniff of you, that's all." Emmett told Dean with a grin and a slight shrug. 

"Alice, Ros, I'm fine." Sam was tugging his shirt back down and trying to turn around toward Dean.

"Sniff of me, for what? Get the fuck away! Sam!" He pressed against his boyfriend but was pretty much trapped in the confines of the small open kitchen. He dropped the bowl onto the counter and started to think on maneuvers that might get him to the safe room if necessary, before one of Sam's loony family got to him.

Alice gripped Sam's arm. "He cut you."

"Cut... what cut? There was no cutting," Dean protested.

Sam looked down at his arm, at what looked now like a light pink scrape. "No," he shook his head, "I did that to myself trying to get to him." 

Emmett, grinned and glanced toward his brother, "You dog!" 

Sam turned his head and glared at his brother. 

Emmett was chuckling when his golden eyes met Dean's again, "I just want to get a sniff, evidence that you really did suck the life outta my baby brother." He waggled his eyebrows.

"What?! That's sick! Sam," he gripped a handful of his shirt from his back. "Tell him to back off. Seriously... trying to sniff my mouth... over the top, and did I mention sick?" Oh God, his night was ruined. 

Rosalie stood in a distance, arms crossed, her face distinctly unhappy, but mostly it was because she saw how relaxed Sam was in comparison to how he'd been. If it would last, that was one thing, but she didn't think it would because Dean couldn't help being an asshole and her brother couldn't help being sensitive. 

"Oh, come on, stop being such a baby about it. If I don't get a good sniff, how do I know you two aren't just making this shit up?" Emmett took a step closer, the grin he'd been hiding surfacing, "So, how about that sniff? You're always sniffing Sam, this is no different."

"You told them I sniff..." Dean gave Sam an exasperated look, pressing even closer. "Sniffing for cookies is NOT the same as sniffing for Cum! Jeez..."

Sam turned and wrapped an arm around Dean's middle, glaring at Emmett, "Stop being an ass, okay? It's Not funny anymore." His attention went to Dean, "They aren't serious, really. They think they're funny."

"Well make 'em back off." He didn't much like clinging to Sam like a girl either. Taking a breath, he straightened and glared at the lot of them. "Social skills... you need to work on them. All of you."

None of them listened to him. Not a one of them, and Dean knew it. He wasn't used to being ignored and it bugged the hell out of him.

Alice moved in closer. 

Well he'd always thought she was the _best one_ of all of them, but now he wasn't so sure. "Are you going to do this all the time? Have sex in chains?"

"God..." Dean sliced his arm through the air, unable to believe the intrusive question, then feeling Sam tense. Putting it down to Sam's embarrassment about his sexual tendencies, he answered whereas he ordinarily wouldn't. "Yes, Alice, we're going to have sex in chains, all the time, cause _I'm_ kinky that way. Now if the interview is over," he nodded toward the door.

Sam hung his head, but remained silent. Alice didn't miss her brother's reaction and lifted a perfect brow, "Really? Did you clear that with everyone on the team, Dean?" she asked him, moving in closer.   
She took in a breath and looked over at Emmett, giving a nod, "He did, I can smell it on him." 

Emmett grinned wide, "Dude, I knew it!" he walked past Sam and slapped him on the back. 

Jasper stepped toward the door, "I think they need to talk, we should go. Sam's not very happy right now." 

Rosalie huffed, "Gee, there's a shocker. Dean's involved, I knew it wouldn't be long before he was back to being miserable again." She walked to the door, standing beside Jasper, "You know where we are when you need us, Sam." 

Sam nodded, but didn't say anything, keeping his head lowered. 

Alice touched Sam's arm. "It's gonna be okay. I love you." She stood on tip-toe and kissed his cheek, before turning to walk to the door too.

Dean mentally counted as the vampires left his house. "God... I can't believe them." Taking a breath, he looked at Sam. "Now what? What happened? What did I do to make you miserable now?" he demanded, quoting Rosalie, but seeing she might have a point that Sam wasn't feeling so hot.

Sam sighed and shook his head, "You didn't do anything. I-I just..." he shook his head again and forced himself to look up, "I don't know about... what you said. Having sex in chains all the time. I mean, I dunno if I can... it was..." he looked away, "I don't want to talk about it... think about it."

Dean felt like he'd been slammed sideways by a truck. "I see," he said tightly, not seeing a damned thing. Already Sam was breaking their deal. He'd said he'd give him everything he could and now that they'd found a way... Stepping back to the counter, he started to eat. All of his earlier enthusiasm and optimism was gone, just like that.

Sam slowly looked back at Dean and shook his head, "No, you don't," he told him softly, "you don't know what it was like for me in those," his face contorted into a sneer, "chains." Sam huffed and looked away, "earlier, it was hard at first, you know that, you were there. I just don't know if..." he hung his head, "I didn't say I wasn't going to do what I can, Dean, I just don't want you to think that it's a given," he looked up, eyes sad, "because I might not be able to take it."

He did get that the chains bothered Sam, but Goddamit, once they'd gotten started, he'd forgotten about the chains. It was just another example of the powerful vampire's self defeatist attitude when it came to things that were important to Dean. No, not to all things, but to sex, which he knew was important to Dean. "Whatever you want. I am _not_ gonna beg for it," he answered. Even though he was raw on the inside with the knowledge that Sam might not be willing to give him more of what they'd shared... the closeness that had been impossible before, that he’d thought they had ahead of them. 

Sam hung his head, nodding slightly. "I, uh, I should go home. See my parents." He mumbled as he turned and quietly made his way out the door before Dean could say another word.

* * *

Dean had thought despite his quick exit, Sam would come back later that night. He didn't.

Then he thought he'd wake to the smell of coffee and Sam. Wrong again.

Then he figured he'd see Sam in class and in the cafeteria, but Sam was nowhere to be found. 

The uneasy feeling in his stomach that developed in the morning ratcheted up during the day. He'd left him again. He'd fucking gone and done it again, just like before, no word, no warning. Well this time he wasn't gonna have Dean begging. He didn't care how much it hurt, he wasn't gonna show it. Not to his brothers and sisters. And not to him, if he ever called or showed his face again.

His mood progressively got darker. He was so damned angry that he practically bit someone's head of for bumping into him by mistake. In the evening, he left go get himself a sandwich. Though he might have stayed in the diner, he was afraid he'd curse someone out for nothing, and figured it was best if he kept to himself. 

A half hour later, he was back in his room, sitting cross legged on the bed and unwrapping his pastrami sandwhich.

Sam was standing outside Dean's window, frowning at the lock as he used his TK to make it slide open, before using it to open the window. He climbed inside silently after. "Hey," he gave Dean a half smile, making a face at the sandwich he held. "That stuff will kill you, ya know?" he grumbled, walking over to stand at the end of Dean's bed. For the first time, not opting for the "safety" of the window.

"Oh, yeah?" Dean sounded distinctly cool, as he used a finger to shove the meat and onions into place inside the bread and didn't bother looking up. 

Sam quirked a brow at him and tilted his head, "Yeah..." He wasn't sure what was bothering Dean, but something seemed to be. Sam licked his lips as he took a step back, leaning against the wall. "How was school?"

"Fine. How was not-being at school." Still he didn't look at Sam, but took a bite of his sandwich, trying to control his emotions. He wasn't clingy, but Goddammit, had Sam scared him on purpose?

Sam shrugged a shoulder, "Good, I guess. I was hunting."

"I see." Yeah, he was saying that often these days. Finally, he looked over at Sam.

Sam frowned at him, "Dean, what's... why are you apparently angry with me? I went hunting. It wasn't like I did something horrible. I have to feed, you know?"

"Whatever." He held Sam's gaze, then burst out. "I thought you fucking left me again. What did you think I'd think after you disappeared last night? Or is that what you wanted me to think." 

"What!? I went home, I didn't disappear! I told you where I was going! I went hunting this morning, because..." he sighed, ran a hand through his hair as he pulled away from the wall and paced back over to the window, "I went hunting because I thought it would be safer, in case we... you know... tried anything."

Another sore topic Dean didn't wanna talk about. Sam had been pretty damned clear last night, and Dean was still resolved not to beg. He nodded, and took another bite. Until Sam walked out on him last night, he'd had a pretty clear vision of where they were going. But not anymore, and that was something he couldn't stand. 

Wrapping the rest of his sandwich back up, he dropped it into the paper bag and left it on his nightstand. "So. t.v.?" he asked, grabbing the remote, and moving over in case Sam wanted to sit on the bed.

Sam looked from Dean to the television and back, slowly pulling away from the wall to walk over and sit down on the bed beside Dean. He sighed, "I didn't mean to scare you," Sam said, his gaze on the TV, "I went home. Did you want me to stay here? Move in? Live with a vampire?" he gave a slight chuckle, "I went home and then I went hunting, something you can't, wouldn't want to do with me. I did it for us."

Dean nodded but knew damned well that Sam didn't _need_ twenty four hours to hunt. "Could have said something," he said, changing the channels and struggling with his feelings. "And what if I said 'yes?'" he turned blazing green eyes onto Sam.

Sam looked over at him and quirked a brow, "Yes about what? Hunting with me?" he shrugged a shoulder, "I guess if you really wanted to go, I mean, it's pretty bloody and I _do_ vamp out, so, it might be a bit odd..."

"No. About moving in. Could you leave your mansion? Your Alice, Ros, Emmett and Jasper, and live with a human?" That had been impulsive. Maybe he'd been much more shaken by Sam's disappearance than he'd even realized. 

Sam frowned, "Mansion? I see no mansion. We have a house. Nothing more than you have, just flashy, but it's just a roof." He licked his lips, "Leave Alice?" he looked down at the bed, then back up at Dean, "Are you asking me, or are you just taking a survey?" Golden hazel eyes gazed into green.

"What if it's both?" Dean's heart stuttered.

"If it's a survey, then I would tell you that when you were ready and you loved me enough," he nodded, "I could do that." he swallowed, one hand slowly moving to take hold of one of Dean's, "And if you are asking me, then I would tell you that... although it would be hard to be away from my family, cause I love them very much, I love you more, so my answer is ‘yes’."

"Away? Sam it's fifteen minutes. Three minutes for you." Dean looked down at the large hand holding his, and licked his lips, then looked up. "I am asking you, but I don't want you to do it _for_ me. I want you to do it for you, if it's right."

Sam frowned slightly, "Shouldn't it be right for _us_? And yes," he grinned then, "it might only be three minutes away, but we're a _very_ close family," he chuckled.

"I'm asking, so it's right for me. Just meant... how about a simple yes or no? I'm not expecting anything, one way or the other," Dean said. "If three minutes is too far, then it's too far."

Sam smiled at him, "I think we can handle three minutes, as long as you don't mind vampires over every once in a while... and I need a few days, because I am going to need to learn to do a few things... like brush my own hair, dress myself, shop for myself," he hid the smirk that was threatening to spill out as he looked over at Dean, "And then I need to find someone to wrestle with daily and someone to tell me how I am feeling when I don't even know... and then there's mom and dad..."

"Once in a... how often would they have to come and... learn to what!? You don't brush your own... or dress yourself... and you need... You have got to be kidding me." Dean stared at him. "You're a hundred years old, you should... you really let them do all that stuff for you?" He didn't know whether to believe Sam. On the one hand he was very capable and those minor tasks shouldn't be difficult for him, on the other, his family was loony and they might make him think he needed all sorts of help. 

Sam couldn't hold back any longer as he tipped his head back and laughed, slapping his free hand against his thigh. "I so had you going!" he laughed as he looked over at Dean. Seeing the not so pleased look on Dean's face, Sam tackled him, trapping him against the mattress. "You're a lot easier to pin than Emmett." Sam snickered, his face inches from Dean's as he grinned down at him, dimples showing.

His competitive edge came out at the jibe, and Dean tried to struggle, but it was futile. "You cheated. I didn't even know we were wrestling," he answered, still trying to push away Sam's immovable body. Of course once it started to sink in that Sam was on top of him, his body started to come alive. He tried desperately to fight off the needs he was starting to feel. "And you still didn't say ‘yes’."

Sam quirked a brow, "Didn't I? Hm, I thought I did.. must be my _old age_ ," Sam decided this was a good time to find out how ticklish Dean was and began his assault on him as he spoke through his teeth, "Yes, I already said yes." 

"Stop... fuck... Sam, stop." Dean grit his teeth together to prevent himself from shouting as he thrashed around, trying to escape long fingers digging into his ribs. "Sam!" he started to laugh and cry, then tried to roll them over to get away. "Sonova... Sam...enough!"

Sam pulled back, sitting up on his knees, looking down at Dean. "Did I hurt you?" he reached for the hem of Dean's shirt to pull it up and look.

Dean's chest rose and fell as he caught his breath and stared up at Sam, biting his lip as Sam exposed his skin. He cleared his throat. "No, but I am. Ticklish." He dropped completely back down and took another couple breaths. "I am not made of glass, you know?"

Sam didn't look so sure about that, "You're human. Same thing. You still break awfully easy." He ran his hand over Dean's ribs slowly, watching his face as he did. "I shouldn't have done that. You aren't Emmett. I'm sorry."

"Don't be ridiculous. Sam, I am not made of glass, I'm human, but I don't fucking break from getting tickled." Seeing Sam looking unconvinced, he made an exasperated sound and sat up. "Stop making up things we can't do, Sam." There were enough real things they couldn't without the vampire needlessly adding to the list. 

Sam sighed, "I'm not making up things, Dean. I get carried away," he looked slightly embarrassed, "I get going and well," he gave a small smile, "I don't know my own strength sometimes." He shrugged a shoulder. "As long as you're okay," his eyes moved over Dean's form before he nodded and moved to settle back against the headboard again, facing the TV.

Dean made a face. An instant later, he was the one on top of Sam, tickling the hell out of him. "Oh no, don't fight me, cause I might break. You don't know your own strength," he taunted, "better not throw me off, or push me... poor human ... might go splat, right? Right?" He was the one smirking down as he tortured Sam.

Sam laughed and thrashed under Dean, started to buck him off of him like he would Emmett, only to have Dean's words stop him, making him laugh harder, "No...no....stop...you win! You win!...shit!....Dean!!" he tried to roll away, but was afraid of rolling Dean off the bed and onto the floor and well, God only knew what might happen then, there was the corner of the night stand to think about...

Half irked by Sam's control and having expected him to break long before, Dean was merciless. "Hmmm, I think I've found a good interrogation technique for you," he said, eventually stopping and shaking his head. "You're damned stubborn." Looking down at Sam, he realized he was straddling him, which reminded him of all the plans he'd had of different ways of holding Sam down with those chains so they could...

Giving a semi bitter smile, he got off and reached for the remote. 

Sam slowly sat up, frowning, "What's wrong? You seem upset by something." he chuckled, "because I didn't toss you off onto the floor? If it makes you feel any better, I thought about it... but I was worried about the corner of the nightstand. Maybe if we put pillows around the bed," he snickered softly as he looked over at Dean.

"Shut up, Sam!" His warning look was followed by him pouncing on Sam, but he was good. He controlled himself. Didn't try to steal a kiss, or make Sam react. He just settled down with his head resting on Sam's shoulder, close enough to draw in his scent with every breath, as he searched for something to watch. It was gonna be a rocky road between them, but it was better than no road. He'd deal with it, he'd do his best to.

He was shocked when Dean pounced on him after his angry outburst, and even more shocked when he simply laid there on him, flipping through the TV channels. Sam sighed and wrapped his arms around Dean. "Sorry, baby," he whispered softly.

Dean shook his head 'no,' but didn't say anything. There was nothing to apologize for, specifically, but there was a lot to be sorry about... for both of them. Or else why did he feel sad when he should be happy? Sam wasn't leaving him, he was gonna move in with him. Shouldn't that be enough? He swallowed over the unexplainable lump in his throat. "Action or drama?" 

Sam shook his head, "I don't..." he licked his lips, figured he should probably answer even though he didn't really watch a lot of TV. "Action." There was enough drama in their lives as it was.   
They were going to live together? Dean had really been serious? A part of him still wondered about that, wondered if Dean would say later that he never asked him that. Nothing Sam was doing seemed to be the right thing, why did Dean want him to live here with him anyway? It obviously wasn't because his presence made Dean happy. If anything it only seemed to upset him more. Then again, Sam seemed to feel like he was walking on egg shells around him. Not that Sam didn't want to spend every moment he could with Dean, but he was still nervous around him. Maybe he was masochistic on top of everything else... maybe they both were. 

"Oh, Van Helsing is on. You'll love it." Smiling for real, Dean changed the channel, got comfortable and waited for the vampire commentary, which he knew was coming.

As they watched, Sam's expression became more and more comical. _What the hell...?_ By the end of the movie, Sam's chest was shaking as he tried to hold in his laughter, "I thought you said that was an Action, not a Comedy."

"That's the ole Cullen sense of humor peeking out." Dean had loved hearing Sam's comments, and the way he tried to tell the actors what to do. For someone who didn't like watching movies... supposedly... Dean thought he was getting hooked.

"Well, vampires are _not_ like that, they can't procreate and werewolves are _nothing_ like that, they are protectors, and they don't work for vampires. And don't even get me started on the toothpicks that idiot was "killing" vampires with." Sam rolled his eyes, chuckling. "And your beloved vampire, I mean, what was his deal?" Sam shook his head. "It was so fake it was funny."

"Liked it that much, huh? Wait till you see 'Love At First Bite.' Hmm, I think we'll make Vampire movies a weekly tradition." His eyes started to close. "G'nite Sam."

* * *

The morning after Dean asked him to move in, Sam brought breakfast for Dean and agreed to the move would take place in a couple of days. He’d have to break it to his family, and also the weekend would be a good time to move. Part of him remained unconvinced that Dean had really meant it and that at the last minute he wouldn't change his mind, but until that happened, he would follow through with everything. Including talking with his father about ways to prevent awkward moments of 'vamping out' that had nothing to do with sexual things. Maybe he would just need to feed more often, or in larger quantities. He was sure Carlisle would have some answers for him. 

A couple days later, Sam sat on his settee in his room, looking around at all the things he would need to pack if this move really did take place. It occurred to him that Dean had been rather too 'good’ lately, not bringing up sex... at all. He wasn't exactly sure _how_ he felt about that. While it was nice not to have to run from the room and leave them both aching and wanting, it was also a bit frustrating that Dean didn’t seem to be interested in him. Not to mention the strange ramped jacking off moments Dean seemed to go through just before he came over. It was like Dean was racing to get it done and over with before he showed up. Out of the blue he'd start and then finish before Sam knew what was happening.   
It had Sam's head spinning. At one point he had actually thought he was going to either cum in his jeans or fall to his knees or both, from the feelings, the quick, moment of ecstasy before in a flash it would be over. 

Dean had called and told him that he was going two towns over to watch an apartment and Sam planned to join him there, not that he had actually _said_ that to Dean, but he _had to_ realize it by now... right? Sam decided that while they watched this apartment, he would ask Dean about their sex life, or lack thereof and if something was wrong or had changed... not to mention he still wanted to know what was going on with the fast, impromptu jacking off that seemed to end before they began.

Scrunching back on his seat, Dean put the binoculars down and yawned. The dude he was watching did not look like your ordinary flesheater. In his experience, those creatures had bigger bodies and looked more aggressive to start with. But there had been a death in the apartment and at the guy's workplace, both at night, and he wanted to rule the guy out. Flesheaters couldn't help themselves. Once they were triggered, they had to feed every single night. That was another thing, there were only two bodies. If this guy was one, there should have been a lot more by now.

Lifting his coffee cup, he kept an eye on the apartment, watching the guy's form through the window, moving back and forth. The light of the t.v. was also flashing, and it was the guy's night off from work. It looked like there was only one exit from the building and the guy probably didn't realize he was being watched. 

Sam crept up along the driver’s side of the Impala, keeping low to the ground. Reaching the side window, he tapped on the glass, a smirk on his face, as he watched Dean jump.

Making a face, Dean gave a mock glower and motioned his head toward the passenger door. Sam was supposed to tell his family that at the age of a hundred, he was gonna move out. Why the heck he was nervous about that, Dean had no idea, but he was curious about whether he'd gone through with it yet. He’d sure had enough time.

Once the door opened and closed as silently as it could, Dean pointed to the apartment they had to watch. "So? Did you ... ah, tell 'em?" He took a deep breath but otherwise tried not to show his physical awareness of the vampire.

Sam slowly turned to face Dean after looking toward the apartment they were supposed to be watching, "Tell who what?" he asked, hiding his grin before quirking a brow, "Why? Second thoughts? Don't want a vampire wandering your house all hours of the night? Cause I don't sleep, ya know... and with nothing to do, I'm going to be pretty bored... I might start just doing things to you while you sleep to amuse myself."

"Like what?" A slow smile spread over Dean's face until he got a hold of himself and straightened up. Thoughts along those lines were dangerous. "Not like you don't already wander. We can... we can change up my dad's room, I dunno, what do vampires like? Put stuff in there for you to play with." He'd never been inside Sam's house, and he wondered what his room was like. 

Sam quirked a brow, "So I'm going to _walk_ through your house, with the creaky boards in the middle of the night, down to your dad's old room so that I can _play_?... and this isn't going to wake you up? You're not going to shoot me in the middle of the night every night? Because if you are, I need to be sure to not have a shirt on, otherwise, this is going to get expensive."

"Since when are you worried about waking me," he shot Sam a look. "You hop in and outta my... our room, all the fricken time. And if I know you're there, I'll know it's you being your noisy self. Floor board creaking," he muttered. "Better than caskets creaking... you're not bringing any of those, are ya?" When the vampire in the last movie Dean had forced on Sam insisted on sleeping in a casket, Sam had gone ballistic, in a cute and funny way.

Sam frowned, eyes narrowed, "I told you already. That's about as dumb as the reproducing and babies hanging in a green sack of snot! It's.. sick! Stupid! Who comes up with this shit anyway!?" he shook his head, "No, I have a stereo system and a collection of CD's, my wide-screen TV, um, I have to wrestle Emmett for the Playstation3, I have my settee, but I think we should invest in a bigger bed so I don't fall out of it when I hold you and you start thrashing around the way you do." Sam gave him a pointed look.

"I don't thrash arou... big screen t.v.? Sweet!" That had Dean grinning. "But don't forget, we'll need to get everything bolted down so that when _you_ make stuff ..." he twirled his index finger around, "you don't end up breaking that stuff." Seeing the man in the apartment stand up and move away from the window, Dean frowned.

Sam ducked his head slightly, "Well, about that... the TV is only a 46 inch flat screen, HiDef, I had a 50 inch, but I broke it before I left for Canada." He cleared his throat and looked out the side window. "They guy is still in there, Dean. He just broke something, I heard it." 

Licking his lips, Sam looked back at Dean, "I have a computer too.. should I bring my desk? Its a desktop huge ass thing." 

"Sure, anything you want. I'll clean out dad's room." The more he thought about it, the more he knew he should have done that years ago. The only things he'd keep were some photos that were still on the dresser and the pair of rings on the nightstand. "Do you need help with moving the stuff?" He kinda felt silly asking because he was ninety percent sure that Emmett would carry every last piece of furniture Sam wanted, all in one trip.

Sam frowned thoughtfully, "Mm, maybe, I dunno how much of what was said they meant and how much of it was just giving me a hard time. But, nah, I better just get it myself. Otherwise, you might get questioned to death." Sam looked back toward the apartment, "Dean..." Sam quickly rolled down the window, nodding to himself, "Yeah, I smell blood and it's strong." He looked back at Dean, waiting to hear what he wanted to do.

Dean was out the door like a shot, pulling his gun out from where it was tucked under his belt in the small of his back. In the next instant, he was pushing the lobby door open and then taking the stairs two at a time, Sam hard on his heels. "Bullet to its temple, or head off... that's how you kill a flesheater," he said, reaching the apartment. "On three."

Despite his statement, he let Sam do the kicking in of the door because it would be overkill with both of them doing it. Gun lowered to the ground, but ready, he walked inside. "Which room?" he whispered, as they walked inside a livingroom, t.v. flashing and a commercial playing, but no other sounds.

Sam looked around, smelling the air, "Kitchen," he nodded toward the next room, "definitely coming from in there."

Giving a nod, Dean carefully looked into the room, stopping short when the man looked up.

"What the fuck you doing in here, I'm gonna call the cops," he shouted, pulling his bleeding hand away from the running water in the sink.

"You cut yourself. Sam he cut himself," Dean said, tucking the gun back where it belonged. 

Sam's gazed was focused on the blood dripping onto the floor, the blood running from the guys bleeding hand. He knew his eyes were darkening and quickly looked away, squeezing his eyes closed as he held his breath against the smell of fresh blood. He grit his now aching teeth, as he stood rooted in the spot he was in, no longer listening to Dean or anything else for that matter, but the sound of blood pumping, the two beating hearts in the room, hammering out a tempo in his brain.

"Get outta here." Blood dripping across the floor, the man picked up the phone.

"We're emergency workers. From Mercy Hospital? We got a call and... here, let me take care of that." Dean tried to help the guy, but seeing as the man was still dialing the cops, he backed away. "Let's get outta here. Sam, you okay?"

Sam fought through the haze of increasing bloodlust enough to nod to Dean that he was okay, taking a staggering step backward away from the man, away from the blood. "Dean..." his voice was a low raw whisper, "get me outta here."

Gripping Sam's arm, Dean started to drag him out, half pushing, half pulling until they got to the stairs. _I'm sure he doesn't taste half as good as me._ But he was good, he didn't say it. Maybe he would later...

"Come on Sam. Sam! Concentrate, out we go." Giving him a push, he raced down the stairs and they were outside heading for their cars.

Sam ran to his car, not stopping for anything, he needed to get away from the blood, away from the guy, away from Dean and at the moment, his own car was the safest place for him to go. He was inside, car started and backing out from behind the trees he had parked behind even before Dean was in the Impala. Sam took off down the road, tired squealing as he tried to get control of himself, tried not to think about the blood, or the way Dean smelled, the way Dean felt, the sound of his blood, the beat of his heart... Sam shifted gears, pressing his foot down further on the accelerator. Yeah, this wasn't doing any good yet. Maybe driving even faster than his normal high speeds would get his mind off of it and on the road.

Dean stood in the middle of the road watching Sam's car disappear from view before getting into his own car. He probably shouldn't be jealous that it wasn't only his blood that got Sam going, but some other guy's. Yeah, that would be childish seeing as it was just an instinctual response. Raising the volume so his music blared, he took off, cruising fast but knowing there was no way he'd catch up to Sam.

Sam thought seriously about going home, about not even going to Dean's, not wanting to put him in any danger. But, if he was going to be living with Dean soon, he had to learn to deal with moments like this ...somehow. Not to mention he was sure Dean would be pissed at him for just going home without saying anything. Sam pulled into Dean's driveway and turned off his car, but remained sitting where he was behind the wheel, his head falling back against the headrest as he closed his eyes.

Driving with one arm on the steering-wheel, the other out the window, Dean pulled up right behind Sam and got out. Seeing the house lights weren't on, he noticed Sam still sitting in the car. Walking up to the window, he knocked twice and pulled the door open. "You alright? Vampy moment over?"

Sam licked his lips, eyes remaining closed, "Horny." he mumbled quietly, actually managing to blush slightly. He was honest, he didn't lie, but he sure as hell wasn't going to look at Dean when he said it and he most definitely wasn't going to get out of his car until this passed.

Seeing the look on Sam's face as he made the admission, Dean felt his stomach clench. He gripped the door frame and tried to keep his breathing under control. "He wasn't that good looking," he tossed out, hoping they'd laugh and move on.

Sam shook his head slightly, "Wouldn't know, never made it past the blood on the floor and on his hand. Had nice blood though." He smiled slightly, almost drunkenly. He frowned then, "And then I could hear his heart beating," he licked his lips, "And yours." His head rolled away from Dean on the headrest. "Go inside I'll be okay. I'll come in after this passes. It always does, just takes time."

Looking at him for a long moment, Dean finally agreed. "Alright." He squeezed Sam's shoulder, trying not to notice the vampire's parted lips. "See you upstairs." He stepped back, and started to walk around the car.

Sam turned his head back to watch Dean walk, his eyelids lowered over coal black eyes. Sam groaned softly, as he reached down to throw the lever to make his seat go back. Laying back in his car, Sam unzipped his jeans and slid his hand down, under his boxers, hand wrapping around his cock. With his free hand, Sam pulled out his cell and scrolled down to Dean's number. He waited a moment as he bit his lip, then with a sigh, making up his mind, he pushed the **send** button.

Dean was half way up the stairs when he pulled the cell phone out of his pocked, looked at the number flashing on the screen and took the call. "You know, you're getting real lazy. One jump and you'd be here," he pushed his bedroom door open and turned the light on. "You're... you're not going home, are you?"

Sam had managed to slide his jeans a bit farther down as he waited for Dean to pick up and was now slowly pumping hos hand on his cock, "Talk to me, please," his voice was husky with his arousal, "I need you..." tucking the cell between his shoulder and ear, Sam reached down, cupping his balls as he worked himself, moaning softly, "Make me come, Dean... please." 

Dean froze mid-stride. Sam was asking for ... he never instigated sex before, kissing maybe but nothing more than that. And now that Dean was trying his best to keep from pushing Sam, was taking care of his own needs very regularly, this? How the hell was he supposed to keep his control now?

"Are you touching yourself, Sam?" Biting his lip, he took his jacket off and tossed it onto the back of a chair. "I see you sitting in the car with your head back, needing me so bad, and you know what? I'm right there with you, leaning across you, making your chair go back. I see how hard you are for me, touch you over your jeans... squeeze you."

Sam made a choked gasping sound as he stroked himself faster, bit his lip, closing his eyes tightly. His hips bucked upward as though into Dean's non-existent hand on him. "Don't stop," Sam told him breathlessly, "Please don't stop. I'm trying so hard not to come up there. Keep talking."

"I squeeze you again, then I get off my seat, put my knee between your legs and get on top of you. You feel my thigh pressing against your cock? Rubbing as I tilt your head back and kiss you? Are you fucking my leg, Sam?" His own voice was getting breathless. Afraid he'd break down and touch himself, even though he'd come a couple of times after school today, Dean paced back and forth and avoided sitting down.

"Yes, Yes." Sam's voice was raw, husky, needy as he softly answered Dean's questions, his hips thrusting his erection into his fisted hand over and over, but it didn't seem to be enough. There was something missing, this wasn't the same as the other times they had done this... _Dean_ wasn't doing this. "Come with me. I need to feel you..." at the dead silence on the other end of the phone, Sam started to panic a little, "Dean!?"

Dean felt like the breath was knocked out of him. That and his cock was suddenly as rock hard and straining against his jeans, Goddamnit. He ran a frustrated hand through his hair and paced faster. "No. You can do this," he said, nodding, though Sam couldn't see him. "I'm riding you harder now, faster, you can feel me through your jeans. You're dying for me to unzip you, to get you out of them, but you don't want me to stop, so you just keep fucking my leg. I whisper in your ear. 'Fuck me harder Sam. Fuck me so hard the Godamned car rocks.'"

Sam made a growled groaning sound into the phone, his head tilted back more until he had to reach up and grab the cell to keep it from falling. His hand on his cock moving faster, hips thrusting up into his fist. He shook his head, "No, why won't you...? Dean..." he pleaded, a groan leaving him. Lips parted as his breaths came in ragged gasps. "Dean!"

Dammit. Dean unzipped, held the phone up with his shoulder, and put one hand on the wall in front of him. Closing his fingers around his shaft, he started to single mindedly move his hand up and down his length. "Come with me. Right now Sam, come," he said, trying to keep his mind free of any images, just bringing himself off as quickly and impersonally as he could.

Sam made a strangled sigh, nodding into the phone. "'kay," the word just a breath of air, as Sam worked himself harder, concentrated on the feel of Dean touching himself too. He licked his lips a deep growl leaving him, as he pulled the cell from his ear, hit the speaker button with his thumb and tossed it into the seat beside him. "You stopped talking."

Dean groaned. "Alright. I'm moving against you so hard, the whole damn car is shaking. All you can hear is the sound of my breaths as I move harder, and you're helping me Sam... pulling me close, lifting your hips. The windows are getting so damned fogged..." 

Sam moaned, bit his lip, head rolling on the headrest, "Yeah, oh God..."

Having become an expert at 'power jacking,' Dean started to come. "You're coming," he croaked, "you're fucking coming against me, and I'm coming... Sam, Sam I'm coming... God... coming so hard." His chest rose and fell. The phone slipped from his shoulder. Cursing, he waited until he was done before picking it up and heading toward the bathroom.

When Dean told him he was coming, Sam frowned, his eyes still squeezed shut, straight white teeth still biting into his bottom lip as his hips thrust his erection into his fist. He was about to tell Dean that no he wasn't, to slow down, when Dean’s orgasm washed over him, stole his breath away. Lips parted, his back arched off the seat as he worked himself harder. His balls drew up then, a growl leaving him as Sam came. 

Back falling against the seat again, Sam sat silently in the car, unmoving for a few moments, before tucking himself back into his boxers and pulling his jeans back up. He had a lot of questions for Dean, especially now, and he had a feeling they were all only going to lead to a big argument. With a sigh, Sam leaned toward the glove box. Taking out a couple napkins, he cleaned his hand off before reaching for his door handle. He might as well head upstairs now and get the fight with Dean over with.

Washing his hands and staring at his flushed face in the mirror, Dean blew out a deep breath. His dick was getting a bit sore from all the power masturbating, but he guessed it was something he'd just have to get used to. Oh joy. Shaking his head, he reached for a towel and dried up. In the mirror, he saw Sam land just inside the room, near the window. "Hey, turn on the television." They'd taken to watching a movie before sleeping.

Sam glanced toward Dean in the bathroom, before hanging his head and slowly walking away from the window, arms moving to cross over his chest. "I think we need to talk."

"Bout?" Dean raised an eyebrow, put the towel away and walked into the room. "You sick of vampire movies already? There isn't one anyway." He pretended not to feel the waves of irritation from Sam.

Sam frowned. He had to know what this was about. He wasn't stupid, why was he avoiding the subject? What was wrong? What had he done to upset him now? Was it his reaction to the blood? If that was it, it still didn't explain the power jackings and the fact that 'all the way Dean' hadn't mentioned sex to him... like, at all. Not since that night in the safe room. 

Sam sighed, licked his lips, "I think you know what about, but if you want to go on pretending that it's normal for you to be like this, fine." he shook his head, "I don't feel like arguing about it."

Dean stared at him for a long time, then nodded. "That's right. I don't feel like arguing either, so I found a way to deal with it," he shrugged, like he didn't care. "Now, you wanna pick the flick or you gonna trust me?"

Sam frowned harder, "You found a way to _deal_ with it!? What the hell does that mean? You found a way to deal with it? Power jacking? Avoiding me like I have the plague? Which," he gave Dean a pointed look. "You didn't even want to come with me over the phone! THE PHONE! And that is your idea of _dealing with it_!? Gee, I'd hate to ever see you _run_ from something, you'd probably out run _me_!"

"What the hell? I'm not the one who runs from this, you do," he pointed at Sam. "I finally got it, alright? Sex isn't as important to you as it is to me. And every fucking time we start anything up, it ends up in a fight, you leave and we're back to square one. Don't shake your head. Last time we talked about it, you fucking blew outta here before I could say a Goddamn word. Then you disappeared the whole next day, and don't you give me your bullshit about having gone hunting." He crossed the room, but kept his distance, eyes never leaving Sam's. 

"I'm tired of fighting. I'm tired of asking. I'm tired Sam, of you feeling bad," he shook his head. "You cried about... about this. So I'm goddamn doing exactly what your whole family, and you think I should be doing, alright? Laying off you, laying off everyone else, and sorry about the 'power jacking' but you can give me a break here. You got your preventive hunting and I have my..."

He stormed to the bed and dropped down on it. "I don't touch you like that because... I can't stop, and you can't go." _You don't want it bad enough, not like me. Or you'd do anything. Fight your bloodlust. Put the fucking chains on. Anything._

Sam grit his teeth, eyes narrowed as he listened to Dean, his hands clenched into fists where they rested against his chest. "I don't _run_ , Dean," he told him, his voice low, "I leave to protect you." His arms dropped to his sides, "And you don't think that this is important to me?" he asked, head tilting, "Really? You really think that?" he huffed and shook his head, "It _is_ important to me. It's important to me that I give you what you want, what you need! You have _no_ idea how fucking hard it is for me not to be able to! You don't know how much it _hurts_ me, Dean! I fucking hurt because I can't do this for you for fear of _killing you_! Don't you get that!?" he shook his head, "Don't you see? And yeah," he nodded, "I did go hunting. You don't believe me," Sam reached into his pocket and pulled out his cell, "call my family. Any of them. That's where I was, that's why I wasn't here to do the _only_ fucking thing that I seem to be able to get right, which is bring you coffee and breakfast, but you know what? It's okay, because you have no idea the joy I get out of that! It means everything to me just to see you happy! Fuck!" Sam swatted the air, " _This_ is another reason why I left. You don't get it." He shook his head, looking at Dean with all the hurt he felt in his eyes, "You just don't."

"Yeah Sam, I see it. It hurts you that you can't give _it_ to me, so I don't want it anymore, alright? Don't _you_ see?" he demanded. "And I know you went hunting, but why? Why'd you disappear like that? You know why? Because we argued... over _it_ again." He swallowed. "I like getting my coffee in the morning. I like finding you here with me. I like going to sleep with you in my bed. It's... I'd rather give up on sex, than have you leave me again. Is this wrong too?" He felt the tears prick his eyes. "Because, I dunno Sam, I don't ever get anything right when it's about... about us." He'd thought Sam would be proud or glad or ... something, not this. Giving a short, bitter laugh, he looked back up at him.

In two steps Sam was in Dean's space kneeling in front of him, cupping his face in his hands and slanting his mouth over Dean's, kissing him hard and hungry, his tongue darting into Dean's mouth, caressing the roof, and tangling with Dean's. Breaking the kiss, his lips still against Dean's Sam sighed softly, "I'm sorry, it's okay." His lips captured Dean's again as he pushed him gently back onto the bed, pressing him down into the mattress with his body. 

Sam reached for Dean's wrists, holding them against the bed as he kissed him, slowly bringing his knees up onto the mattress so he was straddling Dean's hips. His teeth were aching, eyes darkening, the blood beginning to pound in his temples, but Sam did his best to ignore it, ignore it and just continue to kiss Dean.

Dean didn't know what to make of Sam suddenly kissing the life out of him. He'd given a token protest, but who the hell was he kidding? He could resist... maybe... when Sam wasn't all over him, but this was completely different. Practically trapped under Sam, held so that the only thing he could do was kiss him back, chase his tongue with his own, taste him, want him, want him with his heart and soul. He groaned as he felt Sam sit lightly on him, so lightly that his ass just brushed over Dean's cock, and sent fires through his system... fires he’d tried so hard to quench. Lifting his head to get closer, he made sure there was no space between their mouths, didn't hide his feelings... his needs now, couldn't if he tried.

Sam moaned softly into Dean's mouth, already his cock was pressing painfully against his jeans. Maybe he should have mentioned that vampires don't have to rest before they could do it again? He was sure that although it was probably supposed to be a blessing, it was a curse for them. 

Sam pulled his head back, dark eyes gazing down into green, "Ground zero?" he whispered, breathlessly. He shook his head, "I don't know what'll happen, but we'll try if you're willing..."

"Seriously?" His chest was heaving as he strained toward Sam, not wanting any distance between them at all. "We're gonna do it?" Licking his lips, he tried not to hope too hard.

Sam closed his eyes swallowing hard before he opened them again, "We're gonna... try. See what I can do. Ground zero, remember?" He leaned down, slanting his mouth over Dean's kissing him hard, but pulling back after just a short time, "Well? Feel like playing with fire?"


	16. Chapter 16

"Hell yeah." Dean tried to make Sam let go of his wrists. "I want your shirt off. Mine too," he said hoarsely, his gaze dropping to Sam's throat. Trying to reach, he gave a frustrated, "get over here." 

The instant Sam released him, Dean half sat up and started to tug at Sam's tee. He was breathing hard with anticipation as he peeled the material off and brought his fingers up against Sam's chest, stroking him lightly, exploring freely for once. The way Sam's muscles quivered under his touch had him sucking his breath in. "God Sam, you're so fucking beautiful." He leaned in, kissing his throat, and moving down his chest as far as he could. "Smell so fucking good."

Sam held perfectly still, aching teeth clenched, hands clenched into fists at his sides as he watched Dean touch him, tried not to let himself go too far, fought against the pounding in his temples, tried to ignore the sound of Dean's heart beating, his blood rushing through his veins. 

Sam gasped in a breath as Dean kissed his throat, closing his eyes as Dean kissed down his chest. Sam moved a hand, placing it on Dean's shoulder to pull away from him, "You," Sam licked his lips, groaned softly, "you have to go slow. Please. I _need_ you to go slow."

Slow. When everything that had been denied him was being freely offered? When yesterday he'd thought he'd never kiss this deeply again, never feel Sam pressing up against him like this, never be able to tell him he needed him? A groan broke out of Dean as he did his best, pulling back and counting in his head. To waste time as he tried to calm his raging body, he took his own shirt off, and dropped it onto the floor, then pushed Sam, rolling him on his back and practically mounting him... slowly. 

His gaze flicked to Sam's eyes, so dark, so fucking hungry. Leaning over, he kissed his eyelids, one at a time, slowly moving to his mouth. He gave him a short kiss, lifted his head, then was back down, melding their mouths together and gripping Sam's hand, placing it on his back. He was rocking against him, wanting to be molded closer. "God Sam... I need you."

Sam's hand on Dean's back clenched into a fist, his other hand gripping Dean's blanket in a tight grip as he fought against his rising bloodlust. He closed his eyes, slowly opening his hand on Dean's back, running it down, then back up. "You're the one..." Sam licked his lips, "that's beautiful. I'm a vampire, you have to say that I am." he smiled slightly, nervously, "it's one of the things we use to get dinner." 

At Dean's words of wanting him, Sam's lips parted a soft gasp leaving him, eyes still closed. He caught his bottom lip with his teeth, biting into his own flesh as he fought against the desire to bite, to drink, to possess, consume. "Oh God..." Sam moaned the words, head rolling to the side, "talk to me," he gave a harsh half laugh, "I know it's stupid, but I need to be distracted." 

Sam's back arched as he pressed himself more into Dean, the hand on Dean's back suddenly tightening, it's hold, trapping Dean against him, as Sam's eyes shot open, laser focused on Dean's jugular vein, the sound of Dean's blood pumping through his veins so loud in Sam's ears thought he would go mad with it, his blood pounded in his temples, teeth aching so badly it was good. He wanted Dean, wanted him in every way a vampire possibly could...all he had to do was lean up just a little... 

He could feel Sam's rock hard cock pressing into his belly, trapped there, same as his own dick was trapped against Sam's hip. The way Sam was holding him, he could barely move, barely get any friction going, but the little rocking motions they made against each other were enough to rock his world. "Talky in bed, who knew?" Dipping his head down, he decided to distract Sam with sensations rather than words. He licked down Sam's chest, straight down to his flat male nipple, scraping his teeth across it. The way Sam's stomach tensed under him, and his nipple hardened had Dean groaning. He kissed, and lathed, then scraped his teeth again, moving to the other side when he thought Sam couldn't take it anymore. 

Sam growled deep in his throat, as his other hand moved off the bed, his arm wrapping around Dean to join the first, crushing him against him. The sensations were too much, as hard as Sam tried, as much as he fought against his bloodlust, nature was winning out, had won out. The only thing he thought about now, was taking Dean's delicious blood and his body, in any order that came, maybe both at once. 

Sam rolled them, pinning Dean under him, with a low growl. Inky black eyes gazed into green, Sam's eyes showing his hunger, his pain, his need. He tore his gaze away as he lowered his head to run his tongue along Dean's jugular vein, moaning as he did. His grip around Dean tightening even more, completely trapping Dean, possibly beyond the point of making it impossible to draw in another breath. If Sam had been thinking, he would have realized that, but the only thing he was focused on now was his need to possess.

Dean was so far gone that he mindlessly pressed his throat up against Sam's mouth and called his name. It took another minute for pain to register through his lust-fogged mind. "Too tight, too hard Sam," he rasped, hardly able to draw a breath. "Sam?" Even like this, even with a slight sense of panic surfacing, Dean was bucking against Sam, needing him so damned bad that a little pain was worth it.

Sam heard the words, but they were like white noise in the background of a blaring stereo, and playing on that stereo was the sweetest song Sam had ever heard, the sound of Dean's blood. His tongue darted out to nick the side of Dean's neck again, moaning low, feeling the blood rushing just beneath the surface. With a strangled cry, somewhere between one of agony and a growl of pure hunger, Sam leaned in and sank his fangs into Dean's neck. 

The coppery tang of Dean's blood on his tongue and he was moaning, eyes rolling back in his head as he suckled at Dean's neck. One arm stayed around Dean, pinning him against him with vampire strength, the other moved up, digits tangling in Dean's hair as he held his head immobile.

"No..." The single word hung between them as Dean initially jerked in pain. Just as suddenly, a feeling of peace settled over him, spreading outwards from the wound Sam was lapping. Reality gave way to an _imaginary place_ Dean was tugged to. A place where they were both naked, on the floor, going at it like there was no tomorrow. Every plea, every demand he made of Sam was met. And more. If he asked for kisses, Sam's tongue was right there in his mouth. If he wanted more pressure, the weight of Sam's incredible body pressed into him. Arms and legs tangled, bodies slid together, and he was reaching... reaching for heaven's door.

 _No? No?_ there was crazed laughter in Sam's head, _yes! yes! You wanted to push, to see what would happen, to go as far as we could. This is as far as I go, because it's what I am. It's what I need.. you..._ Sam pulled his head back with an audible gasp seconds before he catapulted backwards leaving Dean laying on the bed alone. 

A book tumbled from the book case as Sam pressed back against it, standing on the other side of the room away from Dean, eyes wide as realization of what he had done, what he had almost done, slammed into him in wave after wave of guilt and heartbreak. "I'm so sorry..." he licked his lips, still tasting Dean's blood there and hating himself even more for it, "I - are you...? Oh God..." Sam was shaking, panicked. "I'll go get my dad. I'm sorry, Dean. I'm so sorry." He was out the window and running for home before Dean could answer him.

"Good. So good Sam..." Dean smiled in satisfaction. He was getting everything he wanted. Sam was giving it to him. No stopping. No worrying. No talking about it for hours, just them, together... really together. "Sam... Sam..." he thrashed his head from side to side, eyes completely glazed over and under his lover's thrall... unaware that he was alone and that his body was in fact motionless.

*

Sam was back in less than ten minutes, Carlisle with him, as he climbed back in through Dean's window. Sam stood back, near the window, arms crossed over his bare chest, his eyes on Dean lying on the bed as he worried his bottom lip, nervously. 

"About how long?" Carlisle asked Sam. 

"I came and got you right after... I mean, I was drinking, but I don't know how long. As soon as I realized, I got away from him and came and got you." Sam told him, looking miserable. 

He watched his dad nod and sit on the bed next to Dean. "He's very lucky it was you that bit him, anyone else and he'd be screaming right now." 

Sam only huffed in response and hung his head. _Lucky?_ he didn't think this was being, 'lucky'.

"You talk too much... can't concentrate," Dean said, trying to hold it together, to make it last. "So good... so good, Sam... don't stop," he pleaded, feeling his lover's mouth on his, kissing him back with everything he had. "Free." He smiled. They were free to do what they wanted, how they wanted.

Carlisle looked at Dean's throat and started taking his vitals. "He's already healed. We knew you have no venom," he nodded, "but you seem to have healed the wound and then put him in some sort of..." He moved his hand in front of Dean's unseeing eyes, and looked over his shoulder at Sam. "Trance."

As if to prove Carlisle’s point, Dean arched. "Where... where did you learn that, virgin boy? Again... please," his grip on Sam tightened.

Sam's brows drew together as he listened to both his father and Dean. Dean wasn't making any sense, his father was far too calm. He took a step toward them and paused, forcing himself to stay back, to not go to Dean, when that was exactly what he wanted to do. He wanted to go to him and hold him, tell him how sorry he was, but he was afraid, afraid of what he had done, afraid it might happen again, and what if he didn't stop? It would end just like that daydream, with Dean dead in his arms, drained of blood.

"I didn't mean to..." Sam sighed, "how long is he going to be like this? Is it like the venom? Can he hear us? Did I hurt him? And what do you mean a trance?" Sam shook his head, "I've never..." And it was true, the only other time Sam had drank from a human, he had killed them. It had been when he was escaping the first time he had been captured, and even then, the victim had not been in any real pain apart from the initial bite. Hadn't fought, had simply gone limp in Sam's arms and allowed him to drink, a dazed smile on the guy’s face, but to Sam's knowledge, there had been no 'trance'. "I don't know what to do... fix him!"

"His vitals are fine. He just needs rest." In his gut, Carlisle knew this was true. "Just have some orange juice ready for him when he come out of it. The blood loss might make him dizzy." Giving his son a smile of reassurance, he was about to get off the bed when Dean threw his arms around his shoulders. Carlisle froze.

"Kiss me again... please... please," Dean pleaded, pulling Sam closer. But something was off... different. "Wrong smell," he growled, shoving the man back. "Sam? Get rid of this fuck and come back... need you." 

Sam's arms fall to his sides and he took a step forward as Dean pleaded for a kiss and then tried to shove Carlisle away. Like Sam, Carlisle was an immovable object, so Dean's efforts to shove him were in vain, though his father pulled from the bed, looking at him. "He wants you, Sam." 

Sam shook his head, eyes going back to Dean, "I can't, what if I...?" 

"Do you think it will happen again?" Carlisle asked him. 

"I don't... I mean, I don't think so... but what if...?" he looked back at Dean, his feet seemed to move of their own carrying him to Dean's side as he sat down on the edge of the bed, reached out and cupped the side of Dean's face with a hand. 

Sam heard his father start to leave and looked over his shoulder. "Don't go! Please... not yet." He looked back at Dean, "Wait until we're settled in and then, once I know I'm okay, then you can go, but I need you here... in case."

Immediately reaching out for Sam, Dean partly sat up and put his arms around him. "Almost there. We're almost there, Sam," he said, breathless, still in the grips of the trance.

Carlisle looked away from the couple's private moment. "Just calm him. He'll be fine." But he wondered if Sam would be. He'd seen the look on his son's face.

Sam clenched his jaw, sitting stiffly, even as he wrapped his arms loosely around Dean. "Shshsh, I got ya." Sam told him softly, turning to place a soft chaste kiss on Dean's temple. He moved then to climb onto the bed, leaning back against the headboard, keeping Dean in his arms. Reaching around with one hand, Sam fixed the pillows for them. 

Looking back toward his father Sam swallowed and shook his head, "I'm so sorry, you know? I didn't mean to do it... I fought it... thought that I could hold back and we were doing pretty good, but..." he sighed, head hanging, "I asked him to talk to me, distract me," he shook his head, "Instead he kept kissing me, touching me and it was too much, so good and I just..." he looked up at Carlisle with tears in his eyes. "I blew it."

"Good night son." Carlisle walked to the window and turned. "Not many could stop. We both know that. You're special," he nodded. "Call me if you need anything."

Funny, at the moment Sam didn't feel very special. He watched his father climb out the window and disappear before he returned his attention to the man in his arms. Sam held onto Dean with one arm wrapped around him. He used his free hand to run his fingers gently through Dean's hair, something that had become almost a habit for him to do as he held Dean, usually relaxing them both. 

"Love you," Sam whispered, staring straight ahead at nothing, "So sorry." Sam told him, a single tear running down his cheek.

*

Dean started to stretch and became aware he was being held and that he was sprawled across Sam's bare chest. Eyes still closed, he smiled against Sam's skin, dropping a light kiss on his chest and burying his face in his neck. "What, no coffee? I wore you out, didn't I?" He was damned smug about it too. "Ground zero. We did it Sammy... we did it," he curled his fingers around Sam's biceps and just breathed in his heady scent.

Sam glanced down at Dean a soft sigh leaning him, "Don't squirm so much. You should hold still, you might be dizzy. I have orange juice for you." Sam pressed his lips together, frowning, "How, um, how do you feel?"

"How do you think I feel? Great!" he answered, stretching again, and finding Sam's lips with his. "Who knew it would be so good the first time? Sam?" Feeling the vampire was strangely unresponsive, he feathered kisses across his mouth and tried to tease a reaction out of him.

Sam turned his head with a sigh, shaking it slightly. Now he knew what Dean thought had happened. He'd thought... the things he'd said, the way he'd reacted, Sam had suspected, but he was positive now. Through the night, he’d called his father at least a hundred times, asking how much longer this was going to go on and what he should do to end it, but he always got the same two responses. 'He didn't know', and 'just comfort him'. 

Sam sighed, licked his lips, "Dean, I think you're confused as to what really happened last night. I had to go get my father... it wasn't great... it wasn't even good. It was horrible."

"Horrible? You call that horrible?" Lifting his head, Dean looked into Sam's eyes, thinking he'd see them filled with laughter. "It wasn't what you were saying last night. Did I hurt you?" The thought had him lifting off the vampire, "you said you wanted me to... that you wouldn't feel pain and the sounds you made..."

Their legs slid together, and the feel of rough jeans had Dean frowning. "Sam, you can't be _such a prude_ after everything we did! Seriously, no need to get dressed after..."

Sam sighed in frustration, "Dean, we didn't _do_ anything. Well, we did, but not what _you_ think. I asked you to go slow, to talk to me, distract me, but instead you just kept touching me, kissing me, doing things... and I lost it, I lost control and I'm sorry!" he closed his eyes, unable to look at Dean as he said it, "I drank from you," he shook his head, "And I had no intention of stopping, not at the time." His eyes slowly opened, "and then I thought about how much I love you, need you and somehow... somehow I managed to stop. I went and got my dad and we came back here... he checked you over, made sure you were alright. I've been holding you all night." He looked away, "I didn't dress us, Dean, because we never got undressed. I screwed up, just like I knew I would."

The words spoken softly crashed and reverberated in Dean's mind. His hand went to his throat, free of any wound or pain. His mind flew back to everything they'd done, been to each other last night. His mouth flattened and he pushed Sam. "That's not funny. Why are you trying to backtrack? Huh. You were on top of me and I was so fucking deep inside you that if you were human, you'd have no problem remembering it now," he spat, furious with Sam for reducing last night to a figment of his imagination.

Sam sighed, "Dean, I'm not. And you weren't inside me. It was... my Dad said that somehow I put you in a trance." He shook his head, "I dunno how, I've never bitten anyone and not meant for it to kill, so, I'm not sure what happened. My bite isn't like other vampires’... instead of pain, there's..." he frowned, "pleasure, maybe?" he quirked a brow and shook his head, "I dunno, but whatever it is, _that_ was all that happened. I bit you, I drank from you. I fucked up. I messed this up and I'm sorry." He looked at Dean for a moment, "And you really shouldn't move around so much, you're going to make yourself sick, you've lost too much blood." Sam looked miserable as he said it, knowing it was he himself that had done that to Dean. "Lay back and drink your orange juice."

"Don't you tell me it didn't happen. Don't." But even as the angry words spilled out, Dean knew Sam wouldn't take a joke this far. It had been in his mind, all of it. "It was..." he sniffled, and he wasn't gonna fucking cry. "Beautiful, it was..." his voice broke.

He got out of the bed, pulling away from Sam's efforts to stop him. "I'm fine. Not the first time I've lost blood, and won't be the last."

Sam watched him, his pain in his eyes, "From me it will," he said softly, before pulling from the bed. "If you're going to be stubborn about this, I'll go get you coffee and breakfast." Sam reached for his discarded shirt, "I'll be back, just..." he glanced at Dean and sighed, "try to take it easy. Please. I already feel horrible enough."

"No." In a few steps, he was in front of Sam, pulling him close by his hips. "If you leave me now, over this, I'm gonna be so pissed," he whispered near Sam's ear. "I'm fine. Disappointed, but fine. You? Not so much, so maybe you're the one who needs to sit down and rest or something."

Sam shook his head slightly, jaw clenched, back straight, ridged, "I'm fine. Worried, about you." He pulled back a little from Dean, looking into his eyes, "I'm not leaving. I was just going to get you your breakfast. I'll be back." he reached up and cupped Dean's cheek, offering him a small smile, but it didn't reach his eyes, was strained and obviously faked for Dean's benefit. 

Sam started to turn, but stopped and looked back at Dean, "Did, um," he glanced down toward the crotch of Dean's jeans and made a 'huh' sound before his eyes met Dean's again, "Just wondered if you came," he shrugged a shoulder. "Was hoping at least you got _something_ good out of it."

Dean looked down. "I don't know if... physically but wherever I was in my head," he nodded. "Like you wouldn't believe."

Sam's cell, sitting on the nightstand, started to ring. He took a steps back from Dean before walking over to his cell and picking it up. "Hi, Alice." Sam answered the phone, looked over at Dean and shrugged a shoulder. "Okay, I think." He gave a short harsh laugh, looking away from Dean, staring off toward the window, "How do you think I am? I drank from him, Alice." Sam sighed and hung his head, "Yeah, I know. No, it's not alright." He ran a hand through his hair, "I don't know. I don't know. I DON'T KNOW!" he sighed and looked over at Dean, brow creased, "Why?... Fine." Sam held the phone out toward Dean, "She wants to talk to you."

"Me? Why?" He made a face and walked to Sam, "she gonna threaten to kill me or something? You...” He pointed at Sam, “ _don't_ go. I don't want breakfast." Giving him a look, he put the phone to his ear. "Yeah?"

"Dean?" Alice began, "How are you? Are you feeling alright?" she asked. "It's hard to get a straight answer out of Sam, and he's been calling all night. When... when it happened and he came to get Car... our Dad," she gave a small chuckle, "I actually thought Sam was going to pick him up and carry him out of here for not moving fast enough."

She was actually being nice to him and for a second Dean didn't know how to respond even at the comical mental image of Sam picking his dad up. Then he glanced at Sam and answered. "I'm fine, I didn't even know. Actually, I might ask him to do it again, if I didn't think he'd kick my ass." 

She sighed, "No, that wouldn't be a good idea. He feels horrible... but it is what he is. He just got overly excited... _you_ overly excited him and well..." she paused, a dead silence on the other end of the phone, "I asked him what you two were going to do about it, if he was still going to move in with you, if he was going to try to do anything else with you sometime... use the chains maybe... I guess you heard him yell..."

"Ah... yeah." He hadn't known the conversation between Sam and Alice had gotten that personal, but he should have known.

Sam stood watching Dean, listening to the conversation. He could hear his sister's voice on the other end of the line. His expression darkened with each word she spoke. "Tell her it's none of her business if we use the chains or not." Sam spat out as he walked away, toward the window. It was the first time he had ever said that to Alice, to any of his family, but he didn't want to talk about it right now, didn't want to think about it.

Dean flinched. "No, that's probably not an option. It's ... it's like you told me before, don't have to do _it_." It sucked big time. It had taken a long while convincing himself that not having sex, not touching, not getting into situations where he might get tempted, was the way to go. Then last night he'd thought he'd never again have to give Sam's touch up, and this morning... those first few moments before Sam had explained, he'd been in heaven. Going back to the mind frame of 'no sex' hurt like a sonovabitch.

Sam stood at the window, one hand braced against the wall, head bowed slightly as he looked out, wishing things had gone differently, trying to think, to see where everything had gone so wrong, where he had messed up. 

Alice sighed, "I just wanted to check on you. If... if you need anything, call the house, Dean. Tell my brother I love him." The phone went dead after that.

"She says you should turn around and give me a hug," Dean said, walking over and putting his arms around Sam, clasping them over his belly. "Did you really pick Carlisle up?" there was a smile in his voice.

Sam's jaw was clenched, muscle twitching as Dean wrapped his arms around him. He gave a curt nod, "Yeah, well, Alice is a hopeless romantic. She thinks that good always wins over evil, and that love is always enough to save the day." He shook his head, "I used to believe that too." He sighed and hung his head again. 

"I would have picked him up if he hadn't hurried up and put that damn book down. I was trying to tell him what happened and everyone was yelling questions at me, wanting to know how you were, if you were alive, if you were screaming in pain, what my bite was like." He huffed again, "Hell, Emmett wanted to come over just so he could see you and see what happened. Morbid curiosity, I guess." he raised his head and looked back out the window. "My Dad was so calm, the entire time... I wanted to scream ... he was just so. fucking calm." 

Sam grit his teeth, then gave a harsh laugh, "he even said I was 'special' because I'd stopped and didn’t drain you dry." Sam licked his lips, shifted his weight.   
"Not many vampires can stop, but I sure didn't _feel_ very special. Ended up crying half the night." He shook his head in disgust at himself.

Picturing everything Sam told him, Dean kissed the side of his neck. "You sent me to heaven for a few hours, that's all. Nothing to cry about." Was it cowardly that he was glad he'd missed the waterworks? He couldn't stand seeing Sam cry.

"You might find it funny to know though, that I think you scared my Dad after all..." Sam turned in Dean's arms so he could see his face, "When Carlisle tried to get up from the bed, you threw your arms around him and asked him to kiss you." The corners of Sam's lips lifted slightly, "I don't think I've ever seen him freeze mid-motion like that, with that look on his face... _ever_."

"I did _not_ ask your _dad_ to kiss me." The denial was hot on Dean's lips. "He better not have kissed me," he added, a bit less surely.

Sam nodded, "Yeah, you did." he gave a small snicker, "Gave you a big wet one too." he chuckled at the look on Dean's face. " 

"What kinda guy do you think I am? I don't let just _any_ old vampire kiss me... or bite me, you know." Giving a smile. He added, "You gonna sit here and brood over it, or you gonna ditch class with me and find something much more exciting to do?" He tried not to think about how good Sam felt against him, their bare chests sliding together.

Sam frowned, "You shouldn't ditch class, you need to keep your grades up. And my Dad says you need to drink your orange juice and you should probably eat something."

"Who died and made you my boss?" Giving a snort, Dean walked to the nightstand, downed the entire glass of juice, then headed to the closet to get new clothes out. "Not going to class." With that, he headed to the bathroom, to take his shower. "Maybe we can move some of your stuff in..."

Sam sighed. Well, at least he drank the orange juice. "I don't know if that's such a good idea..."

Grabbing the doorframe, Dean popped his head out of the bathroom. "Why?" When their eyes locked, a cold spot blossomed in Dean's stomach. "You changed your mind." Without saying another word, he kicked the door shut, stripped and stepped into the hot shower.

Sam hung his head. He hadn't changed his mind, for sure. He just wasn't sure if this was such a good idea anymore. What if he lost control again? What if the next time he didn't stop? What if something happened... what would he do? Run home? His home would be here... not much running. He knew he could always get help if... if something horrible happened, but it wasn't like he could distance himself if he got worked up, if he got too excited, not if he _lived_ here. 

Sam walked to the bathroom door, slowly he raised a hand and knocked, "Dean... it's not like that. We'll talk when you come out, okay?"

Dean heard him fine, but didn't answer. What was there to talk about? He was either moving in, or he wasn't. And if he wasn't, then Goddamnit, Dean was tired of trying. More than one of them could give up at every turn. Hot tears mixed with the water, as he defiantly took a longer than normal shower.

When Dean didn't answer Sam hung his head. _God Dammit!_ Sam walked away from the bathroom door and went to Dean's bed, sitting down on the edge. Leaning forward he propped his elbows on his knees, chin resting on fisted hands. He didn't know what to do, didn't know what to say. Did he _want_ to move in with Dean? Yes. Did he think it was wise after last night? Probably not. 

He also knew he didn't want to disappoint Dean....AGAIN. It seemed like that was all he did, disappoint him. Maybe they could work something out. Maybe he could half move in... keep some of his things here, and some at home, be here, but have home as a safe haven... Sam sighed hard and let himself fall back on the bed, arm coming up to cover his eyes. Why did everything for them have to be so hard?

When Dean finally got out of the shower, he mostly dressed, pulling his tee shirt on as he walked barefooted into the bedroom. The serious expression Sam was wearing made him wish he'd stayed under the running water. "One step forward, two steps back?"

Sam sat up and looked at Dean, he shook his head, reaching out with his hand. "No, come here. Talk to me. Please."

"No? You're lying." Staring at Sam's hand, he finally took a step toward him then another, taking his hand and dropping down on the bed next to him. Every muscle in his body was tense, just waiting for whatever blow Sam was gonna deliver now. 

Sam sighed. "Dean, I have never _lied_ to you, why would I start now?" he licked his lips. "I want more than anything to live with you, be with you all the time, forever... but," biting his lip, he searched Dean's face. 

"I think maybe I should just _half_ move in. Maybe bring most of my stuff over, but not all of it, leave some at home so that if I need to get away, need to run, need to be apart from you, to save you, I can go there and..." he sighed, "I think after last night, that's our best option. If I move in completely, where am I going to go when I get too wound up? How am I going to save you from me?"

Everything in half measure. They could half kiss. Half way have sex, maybe, sometimes. Sam kept saying, insisting he wanted to be together, and now he was offering even himself only half the time. "You know what? Do what you want. Go all the way to fucking Canada again if you want, then I'll really be safe." He pulled his hand away and started to get up. "Reality is you _didn't_ hurt me. Keep using that as an excuse Sam, keep it up alright?" Pissed off and hurt, he was the one that needed 'another home to escape to' Goddamit.

Sam looked at Dean, lips parted in shock before he pressed them together in a straight line of annoyance, "You have no idea what happened here. You said that yourself. I _did_ hurt you! I **drank** from you! If I were any other vampire you would still be in terrible pain right now! If I hadn't managed to pull away, you'd be DEAD! Dead, Dean," he shook his head, "And I can't live with being the one who ends your life. You want to get mad at me, you want to hate me, fine. I'm trying to look out for you and still make this work, _you_ are acting like a spoiled brat who didn't get his way!"

Dean's chin jerked up at being called a brat, his eyes practically blazing with fire. "You come up with these plans... these schemes that make no fucking sense. Where do you live now Sam? Not here, and it still happened last night... you almost killed me... I almost died... drama ensued," he gestured wildly, "so _not_ moving in will help with that, HOW? It makes NO sense. But do what you want, it doesn't matter what I say or want anyway, you just override it with your 'magic catch phrase'," he made air-quote signs with his fingers, "to protect you."

 _...you almost killed me....I almost died_ , the words sliced Sam's heart, would have stolen his breath had he actually needed to breathe. He stood there looking at Dean, unable to think of a damn thing to say, not knowing what to do. Feeling as though Dean had just ripped his heart out and stomped on it. He knew what he had done, he knew he had screwed up.... **bad** , he didn't need Dean throwing it in his face like that, didn't need the angry outburst that tore at him when all he was trying to do was, 'the right thing'. 

Sam slowly hung his head, "I don't know what to do anymore," he muttered softly, fighting back his emotions. "I'm ... I think I'll go home, let you cool off a while. If you want me to come back later... you know my number." Sam stepped past Dean, heading for the window.

"Yeah. Run away, like you always do." This time it was Dean who did damage to his house, punching the wall and cursing loudly at the shattering pain reverberating from his knuckles and fist. He didn't know how much longer he could do this, take the highs and lows of their relationship. 

Sam stop, mid-stride, head tilting back as he looked upward toward the ceiling, prayed to a God who likely wouldn't hear his prayers anymore. He closed his eyes. "What do you want me to do, Dean. Tell me and I'll do it. Whatever it is, I'll do it. I'm just... I'm tired, tired of fighting with you. Tired of trying to protect you, even it seems, from yourself. I'm just tired. Whatever you want, I'll do it and what happens, happens. Carlisle says it's no longer my job to protect you anyway, that my promise has been fulfilled. So, tell me... you want me to stay here? Fine, I'll stay and if I drink from you and kill you, then at least you got what you wanted before hand and we didn't spend the last days fighting."

"You know what I want. Downstairs, in the basement, I told you exactly what I want. I want what you promised. Instead, every time I turn around you've got some other excuse lined up for leaving. What do _you_ want, Sam? You just said you'd stay and if you drink, then so be it. What is your alternative? Leaving? Huh?" He took a step toward him. "Yeah you're gonna move in, no you're not gonna move in, yeah you love me, then you love me too much to stay, nothing bad happens to me when you drink but then you're living some Greek tragedy over it and using that as an excuse... see where I'm going with this? I can't take it. I don't want to walk on eggshells the rest of my life, watching what I say or do because it might set you off, having you running again. I'd rather not have you than live every fucking day on the 'verge of losing you'. So go out that window if you like, Sam, but I'm not calling you. I did all my calling and begging the last time you left... it's not happening again," he ground out, meaning every word. The vampire wasn't the only one who was tired.

Sam turned around, jaw clenched, "I _tried_ to give you want you asked for, 'Ground Zero.' But, when I asked you to distract me, you couldn't seem to manage to do that! No, you had to make matters worse for me and then I drank from you!" he huffed, "Nothing happened!? The only reason, Dean, the ONLY reason that you aren't dead right now is that SOMEHOW, SOME WAY, I managed to pull away, and do that thing you hate so fucking much - _run._ So forgive me if I don't see my "running", as you put it, as being all that horrible, it fucking saved your life last night!" 

Sam shook his head, "I _do_ love you! If I didn't," he huffed, clenching his hands into fists at his sides, "if I didn't you would have been dead a long time ago. Vampires aren't too keen on pain. We feel it a lot more intensely than any human can. And I never told you to walk on eggshells, hell, how the fuck do you think I feel!? I can't even trust _myself_!" he turned back toward the window, bracing a hand against the wall, "I never said I was going to leave you. Going home for a few hours is _not_ leaving you." He closed his eyes, "And I have been spending every minute here lately and going home only to shower and change clothes." He licked his lips and scoffed, "My own brother actually asked me the other morning if I still lived there."

Dean tried to recall his mom and dad's relationship. Mostly, all he got were the smiles and the walks to the park, and the beach that one time. They didn't argue much, but an image of his father slamming the door and leaving came to his mind. Later he returned, and he remembered his parents hugging, his mom crying. "Go... take your shower, whatever you need to do," he said thickly, rubbing his eyes.

Sam released the breath he had been holding, waiting for another outburst. He stood eyeing Dean for a long moment, not saying anything before he opened the window. "I'll be back," he muttered, before climbing out and disappearing into the woods.

* * *

Dean had spent some of the day doing more research into Dr. Jeb Zachariah and his group. Almost by luck, he'd landed on some freaky fan sites that didn't directly name his company, but there were enough hints for Dean to get that people interested in long lives or immortality were following certain research and were contributing money to some sort of nebulous cause. They might be banking money ahead of time, for organs they might need, or... there was some chatter about _the one_ who could cure all. It was Sam, it had to be. It pissed him the hell off to find concrete evidence that people were after him still, that there were hints of a search. Yeah he'd already known it in his gut, and shit... if they knew what Sam could do with that bite of his... send you into six hours of the heaven of your choice... he'd bet they'd redouble their efforts.

He knew that there was at least one vampire to deal with, and that he might eventually have to go to the vampire club with no name. So here he was, at the dinner table, filling up the bullet shells he'd made using some of the links from that special chain. His fingers were black from pouring the powder and he was concentrating so hard, he didn't even look up at the sound of the floorboards creaking.

Jasper and Alice followed after Sam, carrying his stuff. After a shower and talking to Carlisle for the better part of an hour, Sam felt a little better about moving in with Dean and he wanted to show him that he wasn't _running_. 

"Hey, Dean! Where do you want all this stuff!" Jasper called out.

Arms loaded down with boxes, his stereo system, and all his CD's, Sam shot his brother a dirty look, "Just announce that you're here, why don't you?" 

Jasper shrugged, "If he's gonna be part of the family he needs to get use to us being around."

Dean spilled some of the powder, but the sight of the boxes cut off the stream of ready cursing. Wiping his hands on his jeans and knowing the metallic smell would probably gross them all out, he stood. "Ah..." his questioning gaze went to Sam. "You changed your mind?" He wasn’t even gonna ask why on earth Sam thought he wouldn’t notice a bunch of vamps walking around his house.

"You're right Sam, he makes a great detective. Where should we put it?" Jasper insisted. "Do you have enough room in this place?"

"Well, does he really need all this other stuff?" Alice asked looking around, her delicate features scrunched up into a look of distaste. "Sam's stuff is newer, better. They can get rid of the other, right? And his settee can replace that couch..." she looked at Dean, "Sam called and ordered you two a king size bed." 

Sam shrugged, "He squirms." 

Jasper snickered softly, "Funny, he doesn't _look_ like a 'squirmer'." He commented, quirking a brow as he eyed Dean.

"I don't squirm." Dean opened his mouth to speak again, but having all of their eyes on him like he was the center of attention was a bit unnerving, even if he'd never admit it.

"We're making him nervous," Jasper said, smiling sweetly at the frustration that crossed Dean's features.

Dean's eyes silently shouted 'Sam,' but he held it together and nodded, we can get rid of most of the stuff. The reality was that there wasn't much, furniturewise, that he was tied to, though having someone point out his junk was... junk... not so much fun. "And there's a spare bedroom upstairs, somewhere that could be all yours, for those... his gaze fell, "you know, vampy moments."

Jasper raised a brow as he looked at Sam, "What, the room made of something unbreakable? Cause dude..." 

Sam frowned at him, "I know, alright! I know..." he sighed, "I'll have to make due... I'll figure out something." he nodded to Dean, "Thanks."

"Most of the things in my room are now attached to the wall," Dean shrugged. It was the same down here, but they could easily unscrew the shelves from the walls.

Alice set down the television set and box she was carrying with a sigh, "I'm not standing here all day holding those," she muttered as she turned and walked toward the kitchen table to see what Dean had been doing, "What have you got -" her words trailed off as a snarl broke from her throat. Whirling around she glared at Dean, "What the hell is THAT," she pointed back at the table, "about!?"

He looked over to see the bullets he'd been making. "Don't get your panties in a twist... I'm a hunter, I make my own weapons all the time. Got silver bullets too, just in case..."

Sam frowned in confusion at Alice's apparent upset. Dean was _not_ helping himself out right now. Alice might look small and fragile, but out of all of them, if there was a Cullen Sam would never want to fight, it would be her. She could be damn lethal when she wanted. He stepped in front of Dean, blocking Alice's direct path to him. Looking past her,he saw the bullets made from metal that had a blue-ish glowing cast to them. Everything in Sam's hands went crashing to the floor as his arms fell to his sides, eyes wide, lips parted in obvious shock at what he was seeing. Why...? 

"Dean...?" his name left Sam's lips in a whispered release of breath.

The feeling of betrayal coming in waves from Sam had Jasper gripping the edge of the table. Between that and Alice's anger, he was about to go on emotional overload.

"Oh come on, all of you!" Dean sliced his hand through the air in disbelief. "Bunch of drama queens. It's not for him... not for Sam. Jesus," he shook his head, staring down at the boxes Sam dropped and wondering what else he'd broken. Feeling their stares, he raised his head. "This is ridiculous, I told you it's not for Sam. Now that I know about your type of vampires being out there, I gotta take precautions and be ready. That is ALL that's going on here."

Jasper focused on Dean's feelings, and finally nodded. "All I'm getting is... protection?" he was puzzled, but didn't miss the brief look that entered Dean's eyes.

Sam turned his head and looked over at Jasper, frowning, "Why would he be protective of me? I'm indestructible." 

Alice stepped toward them, "Maybe it's not you, maybe he's feeling protective of himself, you did bite him." 

Both Sam and Alice looked at Jasper who shrugged a shoulder, "All I can get is the protective feelings. He's hard to read right now for some reason." 

They all looked over at Dean, then back at one another. "It doesn't make any sense why he would be protective of me, so it has to be that he's worried about himself and he just didn't know how to tell me." Sam reasoned. 

Jasper nodded, "Might be." 

They all looked back over at Dean again.

"I am not afraid of you, jerk," Dean tried to push Sam out of the way. "What the hell is with you people, are you listening to me?"

Alice turned her sharp gaze to Jasper.

Jasper shook his head, "He's not scared, but he's getting pissed."

"Guess I'm not the only great detective here. Sam, move out of my way. You guys, make yourselves useful, bring his stuff up to the spare room. Maybe we could put the flat screen in our room?" He asked, hesitantly. They didn't tend to watch much downstairs, and spent most of their time in his room anyway.

Sam opened his mouth to answer Dean only to close his mouth again when he saw Alice and Jasper exchange small smirks. "Oh, shut up, you two," he mumbled, rolling his eyes and actually blushing a soft shade of pink.

Alice’s smiled wider as she glanced at Sam then looked back to Jasper, "Isn't it cute how he can still manage to blush?" she teased, winking at her lover, before biting her bottom lip and glancing at Sam, who was hanging his head shyly as he walked toward Dean. " _Our room_ ," he made a point to emphasize that for his brother and sister, "is fine." 

"So, this still doesn't answer the million dollar question, you know..." Jasper muttered to Alice. 

"Shshsh, I know, but apparently they aren't going to _do_ it." she told him. 

"EVER!?" Jasper's voice actually went up an octive as he stared wide eyed at Alice. 

She shrugged, "Not like Sam has a lot to go on anyway." 

"True, but still, that sucks." Jasper commented. 

Alice nodded in agreement, "Well, they can apparently manage to masturbate in different rooms..." 

Sam frowned as he looked at his brother and sister, "Would you mind _not_ doing that in front of Dean? It embarrasses him."

"And whose fault is that?" Dean demanded. "Why do you tell them everything... no make that anything, why do you tell them ANYTHING?" Between the amused looks traded by the other couple, and Sam's shy attempts to stop them, he just knew he was stuck in a looney bin. And what did you do when you couldn't beat the loons? You joined 'em. "Tell you what, next time we do that, we'll be sure to invite you to watch. Bring popcorn and sodas."

He grabbed a box and started to march up the stairs.

"I don't know if I could do that," Jasper mused. "It's bad enough when I'm only feeling your horniness..."

"Actually, it might help Sam if I were there to talk him through it!" Alice called up the stairs after Dean. She looked from Jasper to Sam who were staring at her. "What?" she shrugged, "you know it would," she stated, matter-of-factly, before walking up the stairs after Dean, leaving Sam and Jasper to stare after her.

"What the hell," Dean muttered under his breath, unable to imagine a single way she could be helpful that didn't include touching Sam in a way she'd better not.

"He's getting jealous," Jasper announced, giving Sam a look, before trudging upstairs as well.

Sam frowned, "Jealous? Of what?" 

Alice glanced over her shoulder at Sam, "Me." 

Sam frowned harder, "You? You're my sister, why would..." Sam let his sentence trail off as Jasper placed a hand on his shoulder, shaking his head, "Don't try to figure it out."

Dean had mixed feelings as he walked inside his father's room. "You can put the stuff down in the middle. We can get the furniture out," he said, walking to the chest of drawers and then the nightstand, to collect the personal effects and pictures he wanted to keep. He closed his fingers around the rings on a chain, and pushed it quickly into his pocket, before turning around to face the vampires. 

Jasper sighed and looked at Alice, "We need to be careful moving things around in here, Dean has deep feelings for the one who used to occupy this room." He licked his lips and tilted his head as he looked at Dean, a small smirk pulling at his lips, "The person didn't like vampire's huh?" 

Jasper glanced at Alice, "He feels uncomfortable that he's letting a vampire into this room. He feels it wouldn't go over well." 

Alice let out a breath and looked from Jasper to Dean, "Yeah well, the vampire in question will be in a lot more than this room, if he moves in, so he'd better make up his mind." She eyed him. 

"Lay off him, it was his Dad's room." Sam said quietly, "And no, he wasn't a fan of vamps. Not that he knew our kind."

Goddamnit, how was he supposed to stand them? He pointed first at Jasper, then at Alice. "You, stop your freaky reading of me, and you, stop threatening me. Let's just get this over with without any bloodshed, alright?" Yeah, he could threaten right back. 

"Too late." Sam mumbled, deadpan, face straight.

Alice and Jasper snickered softly. 

Vampire humor again. Dean didn't dare smile at that, but he looked at all three of them, then spoke to Sam. "Let's get more of your stuff." He was more then a little anxious to get away from the other two even if it was for a few minutes. There was also something he needed to do at the Cullen house since Sam would probably spend a lot of time there even after he moved. 

* * *

Rosalie walked into the Cullen sitting room, still frowning as she had been when Sam, Jasper and Alice had left with some of Sam's things. "He shouldn't live there. It's going to just blow up in his face and Sam's going to ge hurt _again._ " she ranted to Carlisle and Esme who were sitting calmly on the sofa, reading.

"Ros.." Esme started, only to have Carlisle look up from his medical journal and cut her off, "Sam is a grown man, Rosalie. He can do what he wants to." 

"Well, why don't you change Dean then? It would make more sense, make it easier for Sam. Like you did Emmett for me. You could do it." she tossed at him. 

Carlisle nodded, "I could, but Sam hasn't asked me to, I have offered. He says that Dean doesn't wish to be-" 

Rosalie cut him off, "See!? He thinks of only himself!" 

Emmett walked up behind Rosalie and wrapped his arms around her waist, "Are you preaching about our brother again?" he asked her. 

Rosalie huffed, "Some one apparently needs to." 

The sound of a car engine cut off further discussion as all four vampire's looked toward the window. Rosalie growled as she clenched her hands into fists at her sides and pulled away from Emmett, storming from the room. 

Esme sighed and looked over at Carlisle, "She means well." he told her. 

* 

Sam looked at Dean as they walked toward the door and gave a small smile, "Bet this is different for ya, huh? Going into a houseful of vampire's not intending to kill them all."

The jury was out on that one... they often said things that made him wanna kill 'em, but Dean clamped down on the smart assed remark, knowing how sharp their ears were. After Sam opened the front door, he walked inside. _No this wasn't at all like the lamb being taken inside for slaughter._ Dean automatically looked around to try to establish where every vampire in the house was located. 

"Mom, Dad, you remember Dean," Sam said to his parents in the sitting room. 

Carlilse and Esme looked up at Dean. Esme gave a welcoming smiled but Carlisle glanced at Sam then looked back at Dean, the odd look Dean was giving him making it a bit awkward. Surely Sam hadn't told Dean... Who was he kidding, of course he had. 

Sam frowned as he looked from his dad to Dean and back. What was that all about? 

"No. I didn't kiss you." Carlisle mumbled all of the sudden, his attention now focused on his journal.

What the fuck... was Carlisle reading his mind now? Dean's head snapped toward Sam.

Sam grinned as he realized what the problem was. "Yeah, he did, don't let him lie. I told you. Big wet sloppy one, right on the kisser."

Dean's gaze swung back to Carlisle, half hoping the man would clarify what happened.

Esme looked from her son to her husband and back, eyes wide before she chuckled softly, "What!?" 

Sam shook his head, smiling, "Nothing, mom. Uh, Dean and I are going to grab some more stuff out of my room." 

Dean had wanted to hear if Carlisle had more to say on the issue, but Sam took his hand and lead him away. Wow... sure he'd expected nice furnishings, if their cars were anything to go by, but he'd also expected something much more old fashioned, maybe darker. This place was bright, modern, and mostly white. As they climbed the stairs, he stopped to look at a wall hanging, then looked at Sam.

Sam glanced at large crucifix and grinned, "Vampire humor."

Dean chuckled. Then he started to laugh, nodding with approval. "And is this 'settee' of yours really a coffin? I thought you looked way too much at home at that mortuary.”. 

Sam sighed and shook his head went to the last door at the end of the hall. "Yes, Dean. It's a coffin, complete with cobwebs and eerie music which plays when I open and close the lid." He rolled his eyes as he opened the door to his immaculate room. "This is where I go, when I..." Sam licked his lips, "have a 'vamp moment'."

When he walked inside, the crack about being disappointed at the lack of coffins died on Dean’s lips. The room was everything that Dean's wasn't. Full of expensive, high tech toys, spotless walls, a large floor to ceiling window running the length of the room, and it was as big as Dean's room combined with his dad's. He shifted his weight nervously. "You ah... sure you wanna give this up?" 

"Yes, Dean," Sam answered, sounding exasperated. He wasn't sure what he had done now, what he had done to make Dean think he didn't want to go with him, to move in. He'd thought he was doing everything right. Sam lifted a hand and leaned in against the door jam, leaning his forehead against his arm. "I upset you...again?" he asked softly.

Shaking his head' Dean answered quickly. "No, I just never realized how you live... I mean, who would want to go from this to ... I don't want you to be unhappy going from a mansion to a shoebox," he finally spit out. 

Sam rolled his forehead against his arm and looked at Dean, "Seriously?" he gave a half laugh, as he slowly raised his head, "I told you before, it's just a roof." he shrugged a shoulder, "What's important are the ones living with you, wherever that may be." he stepped away from his doorway and walked into his room, grabbing a handful of old CD's and tossing them into the trash basket as he started to clean off the media center.

"You mean that." He hadn't met too many people with that philosophy. "Alright." Accepting it as a fact for the first time, he grabbed one of the stacked boxes and started to fill it with non breakables. "So where's the porn collection?"

Sam glanced over at him, "Porn collection?" he shook his head, "I don't have a porn collection. Actually, I don't have _any_ porn. I watched Emmett's the time that Rosalie and Alice were talking to me, teaching me stuff," he shrugged a shoulder, "why?"

"Thought every guy had one... you sure you're not a girl?" 

Sam glared at him, "You've seen -" Sam stopped himself, didn't finish his thought, too flirtatious, probably not a good thing to bring up that Dean had seen what he had and to ask him what he thought. Would only lead to more arguing. "No. I'm not." Sam answered instead. "I was brought up in a time when a gentleman didn't look at that stuff."

Dean gave a snort of disbelief and dropping what he was doing, walked to the computer. "May I?" At Sam's nod, and within forty seconds, he had pages of Victorian porn up, and was waving Sam over. "Victorian born... gentlemen didn't look at stuff, my ass!"

Sam shrugged a shoulder, "Well, I was taught that we didn't. Maybe they were bad men?" he shrugged again and stepped away, walking back over to his dresser.

"'Bad men,' Sam? Because they liked porn? You've got to be fucking kidding me." Seeing that Sam wasn't looking at the screen, he shook his head and started powering the machine down. "So Emmett's a bad man? I'm a bad man? Bet Carlisle looks at porn.” .

Turning his attention steadfastly back to his belongings, Sam opened a small old worn box. He unfolded the paper inside and smiled at it's contents before refolding it and placing it back inside very carefully. He turned then and placed it in the box Dean had been filling, setting it on the top of all the other items. 

Sam was still smiling down at the box, his hand was gently running over its top. "My Dad has never looked at _porn_ in his life, I'm sure, he _is_ a doctor, you know. And Emmett..." Sam smirked, "he's a sicko."

"Naive..." Seeing the secret smile, Dean looked at the small. "What is that?" As he rolled some of the computer wires up, he kept his eyes on Sam. 

Sam looked back at the box, licked his lips, "All that's left of the person I use to be." he answered, "it's all I have left of that life." Sam smiled slightly. "You know how you're worried about your house so much?" Sam shook his head, "The house I grew up in was a one room shack. My sister and I slept up in a loft, everything was in the same room, kitchen, living room, bedroom, it was all the same. My mother made our clothes, we didn't have the money to buy them." he looked back down at the box, "It was why it was a blessing to my folks that I could heal people, they'd let people touch me... get money, gifts, things they needed in trade." 

He looked back at Dean, "When Alice found me, after I was held the first time, I had been living in the woods. I was dirty and smelled, my hair was matted," he huffed, "I probably had fleas." he gave a small chuckle, shaking his head. "I wasn't born in a house like this, Dean. Far from it."

Of course Dean knew a lot of that, some from what Sam had said, but mostly from his research. Getting up off his knees, Dean walked over to Sam and kissed him, slowly at first, then harder. 

Sam's tense form relaxed into the kiss after a few moments, kissing him back, letting Dean lead and giving the same as he got. 

"Home is who is living with you," Dean nodded. "We're gonna make one, you and I," he nodded. He kissed him one more time, then pulled away to get the rest of the packing done. 

Sam watched Dean step away from him. He had been slightly stunned by the kiss, unsure what was considered 'ok' for them to do anymore. He decided he wasn't going to worry about it. He was going to live and be happy with Dean and if it came to the point it had before, where things got to be too much for him... well, they'd have to think of something then. He just hoped that this decision, his decision to live and love, wasn't going to be a deadly one for Dean. Licking his lips, Sam stepped up behind Dean, wrapping his arms around his middle, "I love you." he said softly.

"I know. It's cause I'm charming and freakin' good looking, and definitely _not_ a brat," he answered, leaning back into Sam and taking pleasure in his strength. Yeah... he'd better stop thinking sex thoughts or with his luck, Jasper would get back and make an announcement to the entire house.


	17. Chapter 17

The day after Sam moved in, they both had to go into the school office and turn in notes explaining their absences. Dean thought in his own case, it was real silly since he got to sign his own notes. When he got to the head of the line, the secretary turned her steely gaze on him and on Sam and asked if there was something going on. She'd noticed several joint absences not to mention they were always in line at the same time.

Giving her his most innocent smile, Dean denied everything. He'd thought Sam would stutter or get flustered, but he'd been wrong. As a vampire who'd regularly take days off due to sunshine or wanting to feed at places deep in the forests, he was too used to this.

Three days after that, everything was still going good between them. Sam was fully moved in, they had their new bed, and most of Dean's old furniture had been given to goodwill. Dean's greatest pleasure was the large t.v. in their room, that and having access to Sam's laptop and computer. Compared to his old laptop, these kicked ass. He bookmarked a bunch of porn sites for Sam, especially those with a bondage theme, and didn't mention a thing, wondering when Sam would discover what he'd done for him.

That night, a friday, they'd gone to a bar a few towns over. Dean had won himself a good pile of cash, and was a bit tipsy on beers and shots. Part of the game of pool had been that each player had to take a tequila shot after each play. 

Sam hadn't let him drive his own Impala, but knowing he was drunk, Dean didn't argue for once. When they got home, Sam started helping him up the stairs. Dean sank down, and when Sam started to pull him up, he pulled Sam down and crushed his mouth against Sam's. He was horny... so fucking horny and it was Sam's own fault. He'd laid down a new rule... no power jerking off. Didn't he realize Dean would be desperate in a few days? If he hadn't realized it when he made the demand, he would now.

Sam froze for an instant before relaxing into the kiss, they had been so careful, hadn't done, anything since the night he'd went too far and drank from Dean. He kissed Dean back for a few short moments before that memory, that fear, had him, gently pushing him away. "You're drunk, I need to get you to bed." Sam told him matter-of-factly, as he slid his arms under Dean's to lift him to his feet. "Come on," Sam told him, as he lifted him, more with his own strength than with any help from Dean. 

"I got ya, let's go." Sam said, maneuvering him around and wrapping an arm around Dean's waist. "Molesting me on the stairs, while you're drunk, probably isn't a very smart thing to do," He mumbled under his breath as he started to half walk, half carry Dean up the stairs to their room.

Dean laughed, the memory of their last time on the stairs was never far from surfacing. "Where is a better place to molest you, Sam? Up against the door?" He slipped his hand under Sam's shirt, splaying his hand across the smooth skin of his back as he leaned heavily on him. 

Sam stiffened slightly at the feel of Dean's hand on his bare back, his face contorted in a frown as he walked them up the stairs. Dean might not think it, he might believe otherwise, but this was hard for him too. The not touching, not taking, not having... it was damn hard. "A better place?" Sam huffed, "A better place would be after my father changed you into a vampire," he looked away, toward their bedroom door as he lead them through it.

"You're real funny when I'm drunk." When they got to the top of the stairs, Dean pushed him against the door. "And sexy... damn you're sexy, Sam. It's completely your own fault you're getting molested," he added, pushing both hands under Sam's shirt over his stomach and leaning in. "Kiss me." He didn't wait for an answer, but slanted his mouth over Sam's, tasting him, loving how he felt so soft and hard all at once. He avoided Sam's fangs, but tangled his tongue with the vampire’s, not taking 'no' for an answer.

Sam made a soft sound of protest that was swallowed up in the kiss as he slowly found himself giving in to Dean. Kissing... he could handle kissing, right? Touching... he could handle that too... usually. Okay, it was going to be okay. At least that's what he told himself, even as his eyes darkened under his closed lids and his teeth started to ache. 

Sam pushed and pulled Dean backward into their room toward the bed, giving him a gentle shove once he knew they were there. Looking down at Dean, Sam licked his lips and shook his head, "Always pushing, aren't you?" he sighed softly, before crouching to take off Dean's boots.

For a second, Dean thought Sam was gonna leave him. Then he was at his feet and oh God, all he could think of was how it would feel to have Sam's firm mouth around his cock, right here, right now. Instinctively, he threaded his fingers through Sam's hair and dragged his head close, almost between his legs. "Kiss me. There," he said, nodding toward the heavy bulge straining against his jeans.

Sam stilled, his hands on Dean's boots, digits tangled in the laces as his face was pressed close to Dean's arousal. Did he not realize he could smell Dean's aroused state already? Having his face this close was _not_ helping his aching teeth, or the pounding in his temples. Sam nervously licked his lips. "Hold very still," he told Dean softly, "please, listen this time," he begged as he leaned forward, his mouth slanting over the bulge in Dean's jeans, his breath seeping through the material as his saliva wet the denim. Sam mouthed Dean through his pants, careful to keep his fangs from catching.

Eyes closed, fingers curled around strands of Sam's hair, Dean battled the natural reactions of his body in order to hold still. He wanted to move his hips, wanted to unzip his pants, to feel Sam's mouth on his skin. A gurgling sound broke from him. "Don't stop, please," he begged, the wetness from Sam's saliva seeping in, and making his cock more sensitive to the sensations of Sam moving over him.

Sam opened his eyes, glancing up toward Dean's face, before closing them again, he slowly pulled his hands away from Dean's boots, reaching up to hold onto his hips instead, pulling him slightly closer as his mouth continued to move over the denim. 

Fingertips dug into Dean's hips, hands clenching harder, then relaxing as Sam worked his mouth, wishing there was a way they could do this better, a way that it could be like the tape his brothers and sisters had shown him, like Dean had done to him in the basement. Sam pulled his head back, eyes ink black, jaw clenched, "Do you have pliers made from that stuff? The metal?" Sam asked him, "I want you to pull out my fangs."

"Huh? What..." Dean tried to understand what Sam was saying. "No... you're kidding, right?" He had to be, but there wasn't a hint of a smile on Sam's face, and that scared Dean. "No. What would make you even say that?" He was a little upset Sam thought he'd want sex at the cost of hurting him. "Alright we're done here," he said, breath labored and mind rebelling against Sam's new method of dousing water over his libido.

Sam frowned at him, tightening his grip, "What? Why? It's happened before, they'll grow back. I heal, remember? It'’s the only way."

He meant what those doctors did. He wanted him to... Dean paled. "No, that is _never_ happening to you again, Sam. No one is doing that to you, ever, or I'm gonna go ballistic on their asses, now get on the bed." He blew out a hot breath, trying not to be aware of the fact that he was still so damned hard and Sam's mouth was still so close.

Sam sighed and slowly pulled up to sit on the bed beside Dean. "I didn't mean to make you mad, I just thought..." he shook his head and leaned forward, reaching for Dean's boot to pull it off. It was true, pulling his fangs would hurt like hell and he'd probably have to work hard to not scream with the pain, but it was a thought of how they could maybe, for once, be "normal," at least for a little while, at least until they grew back, which wouldn't take long. The next day, likely, the day after for certain. 

Pulling Dean's boot off, he tossed it away, reaching over to grab a handful of denim pant leg so he could get Dean’s other boot off, then undressed and into bed.

"I'm not mad. It's just..." How the hell was he supposed to explain something Sam should already know? "What if I suggested I get, I dunno, temporarily drained of blood or my heart is stopped for a few minutes just so you could safely get your rocks off?" He started to stand and undid his zipper, a strange thrill running through him as his hand brushed over the wet material. He stared down at dark hair, as Sam pulled his jeans down his hip, dragging his shorts part way down at the same time. Dean didn't make a motion to pull them back up.

Sam quirked a brow as he looked up at Dean, mulling over what he had asked, "Well, that would just be stupid. _You_ unlike, _me_ can't heal yourself in a day or so. You'd be dead, and although technically..." Sam made a face, shaking his head, "No, it wouldn't work out. Sorry. However, _my_ idea, would."

"No, it wouldn't. I don't think I'd ever be able to 'get it up' again." He meant it. 

Sam quirked a brow, "Really?" his eyes dropped from Dean's face to his lack of trouble 'getting it up'. If possible, Sam's eyes darkened more, his teeth aching even more than they had been, blood pounding in his temples. Sam swallowed hard, licked his lips. "Dean... probably not a good idea..." Sam's hands twitched where they sat on the bed, as his gaze remained focused on Dean's arousal.

"Touch me. Just for a minute. Touch me and then lay down on me, we don't have to do anything else," Dean promised. "I won't move. You won't move. We'll just... imagine it. Like phone sex, only live," he added, his voice deep and hoarse with lust.

Sam swallowed hard, his jaw set, determined that he could do this. Dean wasn't asking for a lot really, right? He could touch... hold him... right? Sam licked his lips as he slowly raised his trembling hands up off the bed, an arm reaching around Dean, Sam placed the flat of his hand at the small of Dean's back as his other hand came up to rest on Dean's upper thigh. Leaning in, Sam closed his eyes, nuzzled Dean's groin, slowly turnng his head, Sam kissed Dean's cock softly through the cotton of his boxers, his forehead leaning against the soft curls that had come uncovered when Dean's boxers had been tugged down slightly.

"Oh God..." Dean whispered, clenching his fists at his sides, dying to put his hands on Sam but resisting. Watching Sam, feeling his light touches, seeing his eyes go impossibly dark was the most erotic thing Dean had ever seen. Heat inched through his veins as he waited for Sam's next touch, and his next. He was afraid to speak, to tell him how good it felt, afraid to spook Sam into stopping.

Sam exhaled a slow long breath as he fought against instinct, against needs greater than any human could ever understand. His teeth ached so badly, the blood pounded so hard in his temples and with it all the sound of Dean's heart, his blood and his intoxicating scent, the scent of his arousal, the warmth or his body, the way he felt in Sam's hands, all pushing him, driving him to do the unthinkable again. 

Sam's hand on Dean's back slowly slid away as Sam pulled it back, "Dean... please. Step. Back." Sam begged softly, voice stained and tight, torn from someplace deep within himself. The torture so fierce, so harsh and cruel and yet so incredibly sweet, that Sam felt like he could cry. He remained as he was, his head still lowered to Dean's groin, eyes still closed, one hand on Dean's thigh as he waited. Waited for Dean to move, to move away from him, away from the monster, like a sweet benediction for his sins. Just a simple step back and maybe the monster would be held at bay.

About to refuse, Dean caught a glimpse of Sam's desperation and relented. He stepped back, fully aroused and aching like a sonovabitch. He waited, unmoving, touching only Sam's shoulder with one hand. 

Sam let out the breath he had been holding, head still bowed, eyes remaining closed, his hand falling away from Dean's thigh. Sam gripped the side of the mattress in both hands, holding it as though it was his anchor to the world, his anchor away from the bloodlust that was slowly consuming him. 

When he thought enough time passed, Dean silently crawled onto the bed, rolled onto his back and looked at Sam. "Please?" he put his arms out, pulling Sam toward him, needing to feel the full weight of his body on top of him. 

Sam felt Dean move again, though he kept his eyes closed, not looking up. Only when Dean spoke, did he slowly turn his head toward him, opening his hungry inky black eyes. He knew he should have stayed where he was, knew that allowing Dean to pull him over, to crawl willingly over to him, slowly blanketing Dean with his body was a bad idea, knew it would only lead to some place dark, some place horrible, that he didn't want to go. But, the journey there was as sweet as the rarest virgin blood and he couldn't say no. 

Sam settled himself on Dean, bracing most of his weight on his forearms as he looked down at him, "I think you have a death wish." Sam told him softly, "or you're the best torturer I've ever known."

"Or it's your fault for being so damned sexy." Dean slowly released his breath as Sam pressed down on him, the chiseled planes of his chest and abs leaving an imprint on his own body. He tried to concentrate on that, but his mind kept focusing on Sam's arousal, hard and thick, pressing into his belly. Remembering the trance induced dream of both of them naked and freely fucking against each other, getting the pressure they needed, he groaned and bit his lip. Only when he was about to draw blood, did he stop, knowing Sam would react badly to that. 

Sam gazed down at Dean's face, tried to ignore the feel of his body, instead think only about looking at Dean, his face. He could look at a face. Sam licked his lips nervously, "You have to say that, I told you. It's you, that are beautiful and without vampire allure to make it so." He moved the thumb of one hand, tracing the side of it over Dean's high cheekbone. Sam's breath caught as Dean groaned and bit his lip, the sight and sound, making him bite his own, brows rising as if pleading for Dean to stop, though he remained silent.

"I want to move so bad Sam, so fuckin' bad. Want to wrap my legs around you," he said, imagining it as he spoke. "Want to feel you getting harder, fucking into me." 

Sam groaned, eyes squeezing closed as he turned his head away, teeth aching, blood pounding in his temples, the sound of Dean's heart, his blood, the idea of taking his body **and** his blood nearly driving Sam to actually do it. "Dean..." his name fell from Sam's lips in a soft gasp, his hands gripping handfuls of pillowcase and sheet.

 

"Shshsh...not moving. Just imagining," Dean said, also gripping the bedsheets as he fought against the incredible need to push Sam to his limits again. "Tell me what you see, what you imagine. Tell me if you hurt as bad as I do, want as bad as I do." It struck him that Sam could probably feel exactly what he was feeling now. "Need to hear it."

"Dean... I can't..." Sam stilled, stopped breathing, didn't move for a few moments as he fought to collect himself, fought to get past the hunger, the desire to possess, to take, drink and devour. Slowly he let out a breath, licked his lips. "Yes, I ache, I throb. My body, my teeth, all I can hear is your blood and it calls to me, all I can feel is your body and I want it. I want it as much as I want your blood. I don't even know where one want ends and the other begins, I just hurt, and I can feel what you feel and it makes me ache that much more." He groaned, finally turning his head and opening his eyes as he looked down at Dean. Elongated fangs flashed as he spoke, "I can smell you, your scent, your arousal, your blood... the feel of you under me... I want... I want..." Sam grit his teeth and closed his eyes, a low growl tearing from his throat.

Feeling like he'd been sucker punched, Dean held his breath as Sam explained what he was going through, and how desperate he was too. "Okay Sammy," he whispered, nodding. "Close your eyes. No more talking. I... I have enough." Closing his own eyes tight, Dean allowed himself to imagine Sam letting loose and stripping down, fucking him. The more he imagined it, the harder he got, until it was almost unbearable... being locked with Sam and getting no friction at all. His hips bucked up, it felt good... so good to grind against Sam. "Ok... okay, time to roll off me or I won't be responsible," Dean said, seriously on the verge of molesting his dangerous vampire boyfriend.

Sam laid his forehead against Dean's shoulder and tried to get himself under control. Fought to rein in the bloodlust raging through him, riding him, pushing him. He fought against his body's needs, against wanting Dean so badly, against wanting to do things he had only seen on tapes or imagined in the safety of his car or bedroom. 

When Dean's hips bucked, Sam's eyes flew open, but he didn't move. Need and hunger raged through him like an inferno, he was sure, if it were possible he'd be burning up instead of always feeling cool to the touch. His own blood was like fire and Dean's was singing his song again, in the sweetest voice ever heard. _Fuck!_

Sam started to shift, to move away, only to feel more friction in his attempts. A low groan sounding in his throat, even as his hand slid down on the bed, digits closing around Dean's wrist. Sam looked down at it for a moment, body trembling as he fought his baser needs, his instincts. "Dean...I...." Sam turned his head and looked back down at him. The next thing he knew, he was slanting his mouth over Dean's, pulling Dean's arms up and pinning them over his head as his hips thrust against Dean urgently.

 _Not fair, not fair, not freakin' fair!_ Did Sam really think Dean could stop once Sam came onto him like this? He was being kissed within an inch of his life, and Sam wasn't holding back, he was thrusting against him, giving him all the friction he'd been dying for. So good, it was so damn good. Dean tried to get his hands free, but he'd gotten used to enjoying the feeling of being trapped and unable to touch Sam. The need to beg wasn't gone though, and just as the pleas broke out of his throat, he thought of how devastated Sam had been before.

Breaking the kiss, he asked. "You alright... do we need to stop?" His mouth was so damned swollen, it hurt slightly. "Sam?" And then Sam was manhandling him again, and it felt so damn good, so damn good Dean couldn't help but lift his hips up to meet Sam's.

Sam started thrusting and sensations exploded though him, a dull hum joined the sweet singing of Dean's blood in his head and all other thoughts were drowned out. Only the need to feel release, to take what he needed, what his body was screaming for. Orgasm, blood, in whatever order they happen to occur. He didn't care, couldn't think enough to care. He heard Dean's pleas, heard his words, but over the hum, the music his blood made, the words sounded far off, distorted, unimportant.

"Sam... Sam, slow down," Dean repeated over and over as Sam became more frantic, moving almost mindlessly. Dean didn't even know whether Sam saw him, or was just in some sort of frenzy. All he knew was that he was probably getting bruised. "Too much... too hard, Sam!" he tried to push, but his wrists were trapped.

Sam continued to thrust, each time harder than the last, until the bed was sliding, knocking against the wall, but even then, it didn't break through the fog of what he was doing. Sam's dark eyes met Dean's green a second before he lowered his head, tucking his face against Dean's neck, his tongue darting out to lick at the veins under the skin, feel the blood flowing through each one. A loud groan/growl broke from his throat as his lips curled back, the razor sharp tips of his fangs against Dean's neck. 

Dean was breathing hard, whimpering. He felt Sam's teeth... and for a second, he started to offer his throat willingly, remembering the euphoria of the last time Sam had taken his blood. Then he decided he didn't want it like this, too impersonal... too much like Sam didn't know or care who he was with, too much like what his own power jerking had been like.

Barely moving, he whispered. "Stop Sam, hurting me." 

Somewhere in the haze of lust and bloodlust burning through him, somewhere in the painful ache of his teeth and pounding in his temples, the loud rush of blood in Dean's veins calling to him, somewhere in all that, he heard two words, _hurting me,_ and Sam suddenly jumped off Dean, shooting across the room, back slamming against the far wall as though sent from a sling shot. Sam ducked his head, in shame, hiding in the shadows of the room, body aching, blood pounding in his temples. "Did... I hurt you... I'm sorry." 

Dean's blood continued to call to him, his body continued to ache for Dean, nothing had changed, his hunger, lust, bloodlust it all remained, just as it had been, he merely had removed himself from Dean. The monster had taken the step back. Sam's fingertips clawed at the walls, trying to find something, some point to hold on to, to keep himself from going back, from taking, possessing.

Dean stretched, made a slight face but no sound. "No, nothing's broken or anything. A little over-enthusiastic, maybe." Rolling his head to the side, he saw Sam's expression. It was hard, as hard as his eyes were dark. Reaching for the remote, he turned the t.v. on. "Watch that, Sam... distract you." His own hand slid over his cock. "And when you can get to the other room, we can finish." It was all about the finishing right now. He might wear a bunch of bruises for this, but if he came after having Sam on top of him like that, kissing him like that... it would be worth it.

Sam stared at Dean a few more moments before tearing his eyes away and looking at the television. It wasn't helping. He couldn't hear anything above Dean's blood, couldn't concentrate on anything except what his body, his nature needed, cried out for. 

With a strangled groan, Sam shook his head, looking back at Dean, " 'S not helping. I need..." Sam licked his lips and swallowed, "go get the chains, Dean."

The elation that went through Dean was quickly muted when he saw the pain in Sam's eyes. "Nah, it's alright... we'll cool off, don't have to..." He looked down at the proof of his need, mentally cursing the fact he'd turned into a 'nice guy.' Otherwise, he'd be jacking the hell off and letting Sam deal with his vampy moment.

Sam's head fell back against the wall, eyes closing as he swallowed, "I need to leave then. I need to get away from you, I can't stay here, listen to your blood, your heart beating, needing you this bad... I can't..." Slowly Sam opened his eyes and looked at Dean, "Either I leave and I'll come back later, when I can... or you need to go get them... because I don't know how much longer I can resist."

He scrambled off the bed and didn't need to tell Sam not to leave. The look he gave him and the fact that he was out the door and taking the stairs three at a time would tell him which choice he'd made.

In the basement, he pulled the chains off the wall, and went to a couple of drawers to get hooks that he could use to tie Sam down. He knew that upstairs there was no steel wall to secure the vampire to, and that even if Sam didn't break the chains, he might still be able to go after him, but he'd seen how hard Sam was trying to maintain his control and had faith in him.

A few moments later, he was upstairs again and had looped the chain around his hand and elbow.

Sam had hung his head as Dean hurried from the room and only looked up when he heard Dean returning. He watched him walk over carrying the chains. Something inside Sam broke a bit seeing them again, panic bubbling just below the surface of the other feelings that were still crowding, veeing for attention, first and foremost. 

Sam swallowed as his dark eyes met Dean's, "There's nothing..." he glanced past Dean, toward the bed, then looked back at him, shook his head, "I'll break free, get to you." Sam turned around, his back to Dean. "Fasten my hands behind my back so I can lay down on the bed." he told him softly, hanging his head. 

He waited for Dean to do as he asked, before turning around to face him again, his eyes on the remaining chain in Dean's hands, "the rest just wrap around me and some of it..." Sam's eyes met Dean's as he looked up, "fasten in my mouth so I can't bite you. Do it, Dean."

Dean shook his head, unable to imagine putting the metal chain across his lover's mouth. Goddamn it, Goddamnit if he'd thought Sam would ever agree to use the chains again, he's have bought or used some of the designs from the equipment that was sold at that vampires and humans bondage club. He walked Sam backwards toward the bed, then circled him, wrapping him in the chains. He'd have wanted him spread eagle, not with his legs tightly bound together, and not with his hands inaccessible. When he reached his neck, he shook his head again. "I can't Sam. I'll keep away from your mouth," he said, rubbing his hands soothingly up and down Sam's chest, and over the chain. 

Sam's teeth were clenched tightly closed, his lips pressed in a thin line as he fought down his panic. Realizing he needed to actually speak here and not just stand there and expect Dean to understand, he licked his lips nervously, "Staying away from," he bit his lip, closed his eyes against memories that flashed before his eyes. Slowly he opened them again, "Staying away from my mouth isn't going to cut it, Dean. If I... _when_ I get totally aroused, I'm going to want to drink from you... you're not going to be able to stop me, _I_ am not going to be able to stop me. That," he nodded toward the chain, "will." he looked into Dean's eyes, black that was quickly fading to dark golden hazel clashed with green, "It's either that or you pull my fangs... or I leave until I'm over it completely. What's it gonna be?"

They stood staring at each other for a very long moment, a belligerent look entering Dean's eyes. He wanted to say that if he knocked Sam over now, there was no way Sam could leave. It was only his knowledge of how Sam felt about the chains in the first place and that he was doing this for him, that stopped Dean.

He pushed Sam on the bed. Grabbing a clean tee shirt off the foot board, he rolled it and laid it across Sam's mouth, before pulling the chain over it, not once, but twice, then securing it. It still had to be Goddamn uncomfortable but he'd rather do this then remove any parts from his lover. Straddling his waist, he smiled down at Sam. "This mean I can play with you?"

Panic slammed through Sam as soon as his back touched the bed, his earlier lust forgotten. Sam laid breathing heavily through his nose, gazing up at Dean through scared eyes, eyes that had darkened again, but for a whole other reason than lust. The instinctual need for survival, his fear; those were what raced through Sam now, his need to escape, need to feed for strength, for what his memories told him would come next. 

Sam squeezed his eyes closed as he nodded his head, a soft whimper sounding deep in his throat. He tried to tell himself that this wasn't the same, that this was Dean and not those others, the strangers, men who had taken from him... but some part of himself wouldn't listen and he half expected to feel the pain of a scalpel at any second.

"Sam?" Dean sighed, knowing they'd gone back to square one. There wasn't an ounce of pleasure in the way Sam looked at him before he shut him out. A movement of his hips confirmed Sam was no longer aroused, either, in complete contrast to Dean who was still hard. "Don't be afraid. Remember what we did in the basement? You like it," he reminded Sam, leaning down and kissing his throat. That was when he noticed all of the clothes Sam was fuckin' wearing under the chains... something he hadn't thought of!

Sam kept his eyes tightly closed, nodding, but making no other sounds, no other movements.

"You're not in that awful place. You're home... in our home, our bed Sam. Remember all those leather straps and restraints you liked so much at that club in Seattle? This is just like that. I know you'd rather see me tied than you, but this is what we got to work with, okay?" He could feel how tense Sam was under him, laying straight as a board.

He started to kiss Sam's ear, dipping his tongue inside, bothering him, cajoling him... kissing around the shell of is ear. "Never hurt you Sam, never," he whispered, kissing every inch of his face, and even those small parts of his lips neither covered by material or chain.

Sam's lashes fluttered before his eyes slowly opened. He looked at Dean, his eyes following every movement that Dean made. Behind his back, Sam's fingers flexed slowly, his head tilting back as he arched his back a bit off the bed, arms pulling at the chains, a small sound of frustration leaving him.

He rubbed his nose back and forth along Sam's throat. "You're not the only one addicted. You make me so damned hungry, for everything. Like licking cookie dough icecream," Dean chuckled, knowing Sam would probably not 'get that,' but he'd get what he meant by the way he licked him, and sucked on his sensitive skin.

Lifting his head, he looked into Sam's eyes. The fear hadn't completely been driven away. He'd have to do something about that. Dean started to undo Sam's shirt, pushing it aside and revealing skin wherever and however he could, despite the interference of the bindings. "One day, we're gonna fuck, Sammy. I promise you, one day... not today, but one day, we're gonna do it. You feel how hard you make me?" He asked, thrusting his hips forward so his cock pressed into Sam's abs.

Sam moaned softly against the t-shirt covered chains at the feel of Dean's arousal pressing into his stomach. He had felt Dean's desire already, but having the evidence pressed against him, that was something else all together. Sam shifted slightly within the chains hold, squirming, trying to move, to touch, to feel Dean more.

At least it was a reaction in the right direction. "You want to feel me without my shorts?" Seeing the way Sam's throat convulsed, Dean didn't even have to wait for the nod. Getting up slightly on his knees, he pulled his underwear down, letting Sam look at his arousal, before sitting again and getting rid of the shorts. This time, when he leaned forward, holding onto Sam's strong shoulders, they were skin to skin. He closed his eyes briefly, throwing his head back as he gave a few thrusts. So hard... he was so damned hard, and they'd hardly done anything.

Sam groaned, his teeth starting to ache, blood pounding again in his temples, he bit down on the tee covered chains at his mouth. His eyes darkened, the look of fear replaced by lust, hunger, desire for more of Dean, for things he had only daydreamed about, things that were dark and dangerous. Sam arched his back again, moaning against the makeshift gag, squirming within the chain's hold.

Dean could get off right there, just imagining the weight of Sam's body over him... the way they'd been before Sam's vampy moment had struck. A groan broke out of him. He licked his lips and opened his eyes, staring into Sam's lust blown pupils. He wanted Sam to come too, come with him, the way they did when they spoke on the phone. So he held back, lifting up slightly to reduce the friction between them. Somehow he managed to shimmy down Sam's body, and with shaky hands, undid his trousers, freeing him, and closing his fingers around his velvet covered steel shaft. 

Sam tilted his head down to watch Dean as he moved lower, his breaths coming faster, chest rising and falling heavily with each one. His teeth ached, the blood pounded hard in his temples, the scent of Dean, the sound of his heart beating thrumming through his body.

As he stroked Sam's shaft, Dean positioned himself on Sam's thighs so that each of his thrusts had his cock rubbing against Sam's balls or thighs. "One day, I'll be the one who's tied up, just like you want," he croaked, taking a length of free chain and wrapping it around his own wrist to show Sam as he increased the pace of his frenzied motions against him.

Sam moaned, he struggled against the chains that he knew would never break, but his body wouldn't listen to his mind on that, only the need, the desire to feel more, to crush Dean beneath him, to touch and caress his flesh, to take, to possess and drink and devour. Sam groan/growled against the gag in his mouth, jaw clenching down on the chain as he bit into it instead of his lover. His head rolled to the side as he continued to struggle, arching and thrusting his cock into Dean's fist.

Because Sam wasn't tied down to anything, Dean had to use his weight to hold him down onto the bed. In the back of his mind, there was a tendril of fear that Sam would realize this and roll them off the bed, and if Sam were on top, chained or not, there was a lot of damage he could do. "That's it, bite down into that," he encouraged, changing the pace of his strokes to the pace that Sam was trying to set as he fucked his fist. 

Watching Sam, driving him to the edge, seeing how wild he was going under his touches, and knowing how dangerous he was at his moment, all Dean could think of was how beautiful it was, Sam was. It ratcheted up his own desire until he couldn't take it a moment longer. He started to fuck against Sam’s thigh at a punishing pace, his hand moving over Sam at the same pace, forcing Sam to keep up, single-mindedly stroking him, demanding he get there with him. He brought his chain wrapped wrist closer to Sam’s face, letting it rattle. "Come Sam, please come with me? Fuck..."

Sam's head thrashed, he arched his neck back, his thrusts into Dean's fist more frantic, groans and small growls escaping from deep in his throat. His eyes opened to look up at Dean’s wrist, inky black and full of raw hunger. His teeth ached, even as he bit harder into the chain, seeking the blood he could hear so plainly, so beautifully, but finding nothing. His temples pounded, lust and bloodlust consuming him, making him gasp in shaky breaths, mixed with moaned exhales. Sam struggled, arched, and writhed, started to roll, only to roll back again. Instinct told him to get free to get to the source of his need, to take and possess. Love told him to stay still, to fight, to withstand; until emotions, sensations, feelings overwhelmed him and Sam cried out against the gag. His body spasming as he came, hot and hard, his spunk coating Dean's fisted hand.

Dean covered his palm over Sam's cock, smearing his wetness even as he was locked in his own orgasm, shaking and shivering as he ground himself against Sam a few more times and came all over him. He collapsed down over Sam, whispering in his ear. "You did great, baby. Did great. Gonna free you now, alright?"

Sam's eyes had closed somewhere in all that and he slowly opened them now as he nodded his head. His chest rose and fell as his breaths panted out. Slowly he turned his head to look at Dean, nuzzling his face against Dean's cheek as he lifted his head off the pillow slightly.

Seeing his eyes had gone back to hazel gold, Dean smiled. "I love you too." Giving Sam another moment, he got off him and rolled him to his side, quickly undoing the makeshift lock and tugging the now loose chains off, letting them drop to the floor. When Sam rolled onto his back again, Dean quickly ran his palm up his bare chest, lowered his head and kissed him over where his heart should be beating now. "Was it too hard on you?" he asked, afraid of the answer, but glad they had the chance to do this even once more.

Sam watched Dean in silence, licked his lips and shook his head, "I - I'm okay." he told him softly, a hand rising to run along Dean's back as Sam gazed up at him. "I was scared," Sam swallowed, "at first, but... I'm okay." He huffed and looked away, "I just ... it brings back memories," he looked back at Dean, "the chains make me think of those things."

Dean's gaze dropped, but he didn't say anything.

The corner of Sam's lips quirked up slowly, "I think I nearly chipped a tooth though." he chuckled, "good thing my teeth are stronger than human teeth."

"You did? Lemme see." Before Sam answered, Dean brought his mouth down and ran his tongue across Sam's front teeth. "Just examining them," he teased, pulling back only an inch. "You have no idea what a turn on they are when you tilt your head back and make that face... the one where you want more but maybe don't think its a good idea." Brushing his mouth once again over Sam's, he dropped back, next to him. "Did you like it better than... you know, alone in the car?"

Sam rolled over on his side, his eyes dancing over Dean's face, "This... this is better. I can be next to you. Feel you, smell you," he smiled softly, his gaze dropping, "of course, I can hear your blood too," his eyes darted up to Dean's face, "which is the most intense torture I've ever known." Sam reached up, cupping Dean's face, "the best torture." 

Dean pressed his face into Sam's palm. "Makes two of us, cause you're the best brand of pleasure and pain I've ever known." He smiled back, then a thought that would never have crossed his mind before surfaced. "What if... if we do this again and you're secure, downstairs, how about if I give you some blood? I'd do that."

Sam stilled, a frown creasing his brow. After a few moments, he slowly licked his lips, swallowing, "I.." he shook his head slightly, against the pillow, "I don't know... they never fed me... I... and I've never done this... the only time I drank from you during this, I made myself pull away, move, leave. I don't know what would happen." Sam dropped his gaze, "I'd be afraid for you." he looked back up at Dean, "I would... I could ask my dad. See what he says."

"Whatever you want, however you want it... if you want it." He settled down, face turned toward Sam. "You know we're gonna need a shower."

Sam smiled at him, nodding, "Yeah, I kinda _felt_ that would be in order." Sam picked his head up off the pillow and looked sideways down at himself, chuckling softly, as he looked back up at Dean. "You should probably go first. I don't want to attack you in the shower.... and yes, I might. I don't need time in between sexing. I could go again right now." he chuckled, "Sad isn't it? The one creature who can do that, is the one creature that shouldn't... unless they have a vampire mate anyway."

"I must have vamp blood in me, I could ‘do you’ right now," Dean huffed, ever up to a challenge. Stabbing Sam in the chest, he added, "don't make me prove it."

Smirking, he crawled over Sam, intentionally touching him in 'all the right places,' and adding. "Hold that thought. I might have a present for you in the shower."

Sam's brows drew together as he looked at Dean. _A present for him in the shower?_ Sam didn't know about that, but if he didn't hurry up and get his sweet little ass in there, he'd be fighting off a very horny vampire. "Go!"

Dean laughed, thoughts of torturing Sam with the slowest jacking-off he could manage kept a smirk on his face as he walked to the bathroom.

* * *

Dean was hardly happy as he took off from school two hours after classes were over. Apparently one of his teachers didn't view 'snark' as an art form, so he'd had detention. Bet Sammy would have a hey day with this one. He'd just have to find a way to cut him off before he started up with a lecture. Maybe walk around half nude, that always got Sam quiet or tongue-tied. 

That idea had him smiling as he pulled into his drive and parked. When he got out, he frowned at the house. Something was different. Then he realized it was shutters. Shutters had been installed on all the windows. Huh.... maybe to keep the sun out on those three or four days a year that they did see sun. Sam had been busy.

Still grinning, he walked inside the house and started stripping, dropping his overshirt on the floor near the door, then his tee shirt on the stairway railing, and he was halfway done unzipping his jeans and pushing them down when he walked into his bedroom full of Cullens. "What the?!" Shock kept him from pulling his pants back up as he might have liked.

Sam looked over his shoulder from where he stood between his brother's as they finished with the last of the nails in the wall. Handing Emmett the hammer and extra nails from between his lips, Sam turned around to face Dean, brow quirked, "I know I told you that we were a close family, but we usually don't run around naked." he grinned, shrugging a shoulder, "that's only on Fridays." 

That got a giggle out of Alice and Esme, and a snort from Rosalie who was eyeing Dean like he had just vomited in the middle of the floor.

Dean cleared his throat, trying to act casual as he refastened his jeans and shot Sam a glare. Dammit, he had Cullens coming out of his ears and no warning! "What's going on, Sam?" He eyed each of the Cullens hard at work, and the changes in his room started to sink in. New shutters were just the tip of the iceberg. He barely recognized his room, and was it bigger? How the fuck...

Sam shrugged, "We were just making a few changes. Making things better.... nicer." Sam stepped over toward him, "I thought you'd like it. " he looked over his shoulder at his family, "Alice and mom hung the shutters, Emmett, Jasper and I moved the wall, Dad was kinda overseeing all of us, because well," he grinned, "we kinda argue. Emmett, doesn't like to follow orders." 

"You were doing it wrong." Emmett shot back. 

Sam sighed, "It's a wall, Emmett, how can I _do it wrong_?" 

Sam raised his head and looked at Dean, "You're mad?"

"You moved a wall?" Dean sputtered, and turned around, realizing that the room looked bigger not just because of all the other changes, the modern furniture, the chairs and sofas, the brighter walls... but they'd done it, they'd moved the wall! He ran out to the hall and saw that the door to his dad's... now Sam's personal room... was gone. Walking back inside slowly, he stared at each of the Cullens, then found the 'new' door to dad's room, opened it, and saw it had been shrunk down to the size of an office. 

Sam slowly walked up behind him, "I don't _need_ a lot of room, so, we thought it would be okay, it would make our room bigger and we spend most of our time up here anyway." 

Emmett snickered, "Screwin'."

Sam frowned and glared at his brother over his shoulder before looking back at Dean, "My Mom hung a few things on the walls after we painted, to decorate them, and my sisters relined the cabinets downstairs in the kitchen," he shot a dirty look toward his brothers, "AFTER we fixed some of the doors to the cabinets because _some_ of us thought it was funny to try to hang on them." 

Emmett and Jasper snickered softly.

"Huh." Dean was feeling a little numb. Looking around, he really couldn't argue all of it was an improvement. And they really did spend most of their time in his room. He even ate there more than half the time, so it made sense to have a love seat in front of the t.v. and the place was certainly brighter... a lot like the Cullens' place, very modern. He shook his head yes, because he could see Sam was getting worried or anxious. "Just... you know, a little warning would'a been nice." 

Sam bit his lip, "Well, we would have asked you, but you were in detention." The corner of his lips curled upward, though he tried to hide it.

Dean’s gaze met Carlisle's. No, he definitely had _not_ kissed Sam's dad... that had been the dumbest joke ever because now, forever there would be a slight awkwardness. Then he looked over at Esme. "It's nice. Very nice," he said, though he spoke through tight lips. "Except... what's with the modern art... those graduation hats?"

Sam watched as his Mom smiled at Dean and nodded, before Dean's question drew his attention back to him. "Uh, yeah, they're all my graduation caps and tassles." Sam shrugged, "it's kind of a family joke." 

"Emmett and I have more than Sam, Alice, Jasper and Edward." Rosalie offered, with a victorious smile. 

"Yeah, but I was out of commission for five years, and before that I didn't know about the game, so it's not totally fair." 

Rosalie shrugged, "You could take night classes to try and keep up." 

Sam frowned at her, lips pressed in a thin line before he looked back at Dean, "Oh and downstairs, there's new furniture. Don't freak, but all matches and it's kinda," he glanced at his mom, before looking back at Dean, "girlie."

He'd been so intent on distracting Sam with his nakedness, he hadn't even noticed. "Table. Tell me there's still a table to work on. Sam, you know I need a work table to make weapons and plans..."

"There's still a table, but now it doesn't look like you stole it from some farmhouse," Alice offered. "You can actually eat at the table."

"Vampire giving me eating advice?" Dean rolled his eyes. "Just tell me you didn't turn the shower into a bath."

"Actually, my children have excellent table manors," Carlisle cut in as he walked over and took a seat next to Esme on the love seat. "They have to, I _am_ a doctor and we get invited to social affairs," he shrugged a shoulder. 

Sam bit his lip, shaking his head, "No, the shower is still a shower, but you _do_ have a tub now too." 

"It's a jacuzzi." Emmett grumbled shaking his head, as he wrapped his arms around Rosalie's waist. 

Carlisle nodded, "It is a jacuzzi, Sam, your brother is correct." He glanced at Dean, "Emmett and Jasper thought that perhaps you and Sam would like it for sex." his gaze went back to Sam, "Speaking of which," he looked back at Dean, "Sam tells me you offered him blood?"

"How're we even supposed to get into the same jacu--" Dean started to grumble until he realized the source of the suggestion was Sam's dad... his dad! Sam's dad was talking sex with him, that just did not happen in the 'real' world. Cringing, he started backing away from all of them but ran smack dab into an immovable object. "Hands off," he growled, getting away from Emmett.

His gaze slid to Carlisle, a blush stealing down his neck as he realized how graphically descriptive Sam had likely been. "Ah... personal. You guys, all of you... you too Sam, need to respect boundaries, ok? Parents don't go snooping into their kids' sex lives or throwing out advice or giving them sex toys... it just doesn't happen. And... [I]boyfriends,[/I]" that was the first time he'd used the word, "don't go spilling every detail about their sex lives unless they want to live to regret it." This time, his gaze was fixed on Sam.

Emmett chuckled, "I guess that means no more kisses for you then, Carl - I mean, Dad." 

Sam groaned softly, rolling his eyes. Sometimes Emmett had a big mouth. 

Sam looked at Dean, holding up his hands defensively, "Hey, I told you I didn't know about it. Even bound, I might still be dangerous doing that, that I needed to ask my Dad, so I did!" 

"I don't like that," Alice wrinkled her pixie-like nose, "Sam being bound." 

Sam looked over at her, "I told you, it's the safest way. Maybe the only way." 

"You don't need to be embarrassed around me, Dean. I'm very clinical about these things." Carlisle told him.

"Is the rest of your family made up of clinical physicians too," Dean demanded, frustrated. "Look, if we do it, how we do it, all of that... none of your business." He stared at Alice and Emmett, since those two were the most vocal on what they should or shouldn't be doing with their sex lives. 

"Sam would prefer to do the binding," Jasper casually advised.

"I know... dammit, there you go again. Sam!" Crossing his arms, Dean looked at Sam, expecting him to handle his family, now.

"I didn't tell him that! You know how I feel about liking that! He... he knew." Sam told Dean with a huff. 

Emmett shrugged, "Nothing wrong with a little kink, makes things less boring."

Rosalie chuckled softly, and Alice rolled her eyes. "Yeah, but could Sam maybe like silk scarfs? The chains and ropes are chaffing." 

Sam had the decency to blush and hang his head. 

"Now we're not only embarrassing Dean, but Sam too... though Dean's also getting mad." Jasper informed them all, tilting his head to the side, "Maybe it's because when he came home he was horny and we were here...?" he looked at Sam, "Does Dean still get upset if he's horny and doesn't get any?"

"I was _not_ horny," Dean gritted out. Seven pairs of golden hued eyes stared back at him and called him a liar.

"Goddamnit... I... how about the weather, I hear it's gonna be sunny. Probably should get home before the sun comes out." 

Seven pairs of golden eyes continued to regard him non-pulsed by his weather prediction. 

"So, about the blood," Carlisle started again, "I think that while that would indeed increase Sam's pleasure, you need to be aware of how closely lust and bloodlust run, he's not going to be..." Carlisle glanced at his son before looking back at Dean, "gentle. The chains will need to be very secure to hold him. Not many vampire's can pull away after the first taste of human blood. Sam is special, it's indeed a big deal that you're standing here with us right now."

Dean groaned, "Sam?" They were gonna make him talk about this, weren't they? Yes they were. "He hurts when he doesn't have it, so I thought maybe if he did get some... but _without getting into too much detail_ , if it's a bad idea, then fine... we won't. End of discussion, okay?" There were many other ways he could distract Sam from the ache in his teeth and it had only been an idea, he'd never dreamed it would turn into a family wide discussion.

Carlisle looked between the two of them, lips pressed together in a firm line. "It's quite accepted for two vampires to drink from one another during sex, but with you being human and all, it could prove dangerous. It would be something to test," he shook his head, "but I wouldn't try it alone. Maybe with one of us with you..." he gave a casual shrug of one shoulder. He regarded Dean for a moment, "I could turn you for Sam." he offered, "I did it for Rosalie with Emmett, it's not unheard of either."

"Whoa whoa whoa," Dean raised his hands up. "I said a sampler, there was nothing about turning. I'm human. I'm staying human." He was vehement, wanting to make it clear that none of them were to touch him.

Ros hung her head, for the first time losing the hard edge to her expression.

Carlisle nodded, "You don't need to worry, son. My children wouldn't do that, they wouldn't upset Sam like that, and I respect your decision. Sam... lacks the ability to turn anyone, so he is not a cause for concern in that area either." He offered Dean a small smile, "you have nothing to fear."

Dean gave a curt nod. 

"What about Carlisle being there if you try to give Sam blood," Alice asked. "I think it would be a good idea if you decide on kinky blood play."

"Blood play?" That was the first time Dean had even thought about it in those terms. He gave a shudder. "It's not like that..."

Emmett smirked, "What do _you_ call it then, dude? It's kinky blood play." He looked at Sam, "I approve. Little brother's growing up." he laughed. 

Sam glared at him, "Emmett, go drink toilet water." 

Emmett made a face, "That's just rude." 

Carlisle sighed, "Boys..."

"Dean?"

Dean stared back at Alice, bristling at her persistence.

"I know you, you're stubborn. You're going to try it... then something's going to go wrong and Sam will end up killing you, and then you'll have destroyed him. I don't want to see that happen." Alice was firm, but not unkind.

"It's possible that a little at a time will help Sam get used to it, the same way that being close all the time has helped him tolerate the closeness better,” Carlisles said, taking Esme’s hand.

"You talk about me like I'm some sort of disease."

"Pretty much." Ros gave a malicious smile.

Sam sighed, "I think maybe this discussion should be saved for between just Dean, Dad, Alice and me." 

Emmett frowned, "No way! I wanna hear!" 

Alice sighed, "Like I wouldn't tell you later." 

Jasper smirked, "If she didn't _I_ would. Who else would help me torture Sam with notes on the fridge when he comes over. 'Sharpen the knives for kinky blood play tonight, Dean's horny again'." he mused, chuckling. 

Emmett smacked the back of a chair laughing, "That's good! That's even better than the letter we sent to Edward." 

Sam hung his head, shaking it, "I'm dead, huh?" he muttered low to Dean, not that the rest of his family couldn't hear him anyway.

"As a door knob."

The vampires in the room laughed. 

Dean didn't even crack a smile. 

Esme finally got up. "Enjoy the tub. I hope you get as much use out of it as Carlisle and I do, but be careful," she said, patting his back and smiling at him. "I don't want either of you hurt." Passing Dean, Esme gave Sam a tight hug. "I miss you."

Dean barely restrained an eyeroll. Did they all miss the fact that they lived close by and had seen each other almost every day since Sam had moved out? What the hell?

Sam hugged his Mom back, eyes closing, "Miss you too." he told her softly. 

As Alice stepped up to him, Sam hugged her tightly. 

"It's not the same without you home." she told him softly, kissing his cheek. 

"I miss you so much." he told her, before slowly letting go. 

Carlisle clapped his son on the shoulder, "You know where we are if you need us, son." 

Sam nodded. 

Emmett and Jasper both slapped Sam's back or shoulder as they walked by, and Rosalie actually nearly threw herself into Sam's arms. "You be careful, don't you let him hurt you. You understand me?" he told Sam softly, but sternly. 

Sam smiled at her, nodding. "I know." 

One by one, the vampires left the house, leaving Sam to face Dean. He turned, biting his lip as his golden hazel eyes met green, "I can totally explain..." Sam began.


	18. Chapter 18

Sam climbed through the window of Dean's bedroom. Some habits were hard to break, even though he had his own key, he still tended to climb in through the window when he wasn't walking in _with_ Dean. Closing the window behind himself, Sam froze at the sounds of moaning and groaning, coming from the other side of the room. _What the hell...?_

Turning, Sam saw that the wide screen television was turned on, porn playing on it. A guy with short spikey hair lay tied to a bed, while his lover tortured him in all sorts of delicious ways. Moans, soft pants and heated pleas filled the room. His gaze transfixed on the television screen, mouth slack, lips parted slightly as he watched, Sam half sat, half fell back onto the bed. What was Dean trying to do? It had to be Dean that put that on, right? Sam frowned as he laid back on the bed with a groan, noticing for the first time the leather cuffs attached to the high bed posts. "Oh holy hell, Dean..." Sam groaned, "what are you trying to do to me?" 

Pulling off the bed, hard and heavy between his legs, his erection pressing painfully against his jeans, Sam headed down the stairs to find his boyfriend. "Dean? Dean!" he called out as he descended the stairs, "This isn't funny, dude. You're just asking to become a juice box!" Sam called out, but there was no answer, the house was empty. 

Sam frowned looking around the living room and kitchen, finally deciding to check the basement only to find it empty of everything but sounds similar to what he’d found upstairs. What the...? Where was he? Walking further into the basement, drawing closer to the small television, Sam glanced at the screen as he passed it. Yeah, he was right, more porn, more _bondage_ porn. The moans and grunts, and panted breaths from the television seeming to echo inside the room as Sam sat down heavily on the cot in the basement. _Oh God, Dean..._ His teeth were starting to ache, his eyes were growing darker, he knew it, could feel it. 

He focused on Dean and tried to figure out where he was, one hand going to his groin, the heel of his hand pressing against his erection as he closed his eyes with a soft moan. _Dean, this so isn't funny..._

It was then that Sam's cell rang. Reaching for the phone in his jacket pocket, Sam licked his lips and slowly opened his eyes, revealing nearly black orbs, only a hint of golden-hazel remaining. "Mm, yeah?" Sam answered the call, his voice soft, and husky in his arousal.

A smile curved Dean's unapologetic mouth as he recognized the need in Sam's voice. "I take it you've seen the presents I've left for you. Like them?" Dean sat back in the Impala, imagining Sam being bombarded by the images he'd left for him. In fact, he could hear the groans coming from the television in the background. 

Sam glanced at the television and licked his lips. "I, uh..." Sam hissed out a breath as he squeezed his aching shaft through his jeans, lips pressed together. "Mm, yeah. Where - Where are you?"

"Right there with you, babe." As if to prove his point, Dean pulled his shirt up and touched himself over his pants. "Feel me?" Just in case Sam didn't, Dean concentrated on the image of Sam watching porn and aching for him, and squeezed himself harder, just holding back a groan. "Did you touch the leather cuffs?" He didn't know exactly where Sam was, but he'd cuffs around in practically every room of the house to make sure Sam couldn't 'get away' from his presents.

Sam groaned into the phone, feeling Dean touch himself, feeling it almost as though he were touching him. He bit his lip, turning his head toward the pillows on the cot, seeing more leather restraints fixed to it. "Oh God, Dean..." the words leaving him as a breath of air as he laid back on the bed, rolling onto his side to pick up one of the cuffs. Closing his eyes, he moaned low into the phone, hand tightening on the cuff as he thought about Dean laid out in their bed, bound and naked, hard and aching for him. "Mm, yeah, I, uh," Sam swallowed, nodding, "I have one of the cuffs." he cleared his throat.

"Like how they feel? Kinda stretchy but unbreakable? Wanna put 'em on me Sam?" He bit his lip, instinctively knowing how the question would affect Sam. "Tell me what you're doing with them."

"Mm, they feel...." he paused, listening to Dean, a low groan leaving him, "God, yes..." Sam licked his lips, frowning, "What I'm...?" he nodded. Okay, they were going to have phone sex, yeah, that would be better, safer. Okay, he could do this, let himself go as long as Dean wasn't around. As long as he didn't need to worry. 

"What I'm doing with them?" the corner of Sam's lips curved upward, "Well, after we kiss until we're both hot and hard, after I've run my hands over your body, feeling you, touching, learning, memorizing... I kiss you again, pressing you back against the mattress. Take your hands in mine, just holding your hands at first, so that you're relaxed, as we grind against each other, skin to skin. But after a few minutes, I move my hands, and I'm pulling you wrists up, fastening them into the leather, above your head. I pull the buckles tight, so that you always know they're there..."

"I'm a little worried about them. I pull at them, and I see there's no getting out of them. I open my eyes, I'm about to ask you what you're doing, then I see your eyes. God Sam, they're so dark, and I just know why. I nod, but I test the leather again." Dean imagined what it would feel like to want to touch Sam, but not be able to. How frustrating it would be. "I want to touch you, I want to put my hands over your ass and force you down on me, but I can't... I lift up, I beg you, 'please Sammy... please... touch me.'"

Sam moaned softly, eyes closed as he pictured what Dean was telling him, pictured Dean under him, naked and wanting. Releasing his death grip on the leather restraint, Sam reached down and unfastened his jeans with one hand, rolling onto his back as he worked the fastenings. 

"I lean in and I'm kissing your jaw, down your neck..." Jeans open, Sam pushed them down his thighs, wiggling on the bed to do so one handed, then freed his erection from his boxers, slowly running his hand along his length. "I make my way lower, over your chest, your stomach. I'm kissing and licking my way down and I want so badly to bite, but I fight the urge, the need. I ignore the pain in my teeth and the pounding in my temples, because I have you under me, and it's worth anything to have you there. Worth the pain and the near frenzied blood lust I'm fighting, because God, Dean, I can smell you, your scent... it's like a drug to me."

As Dean thought of all the power, all the steely determination it took for Sam to fight his instincts, a shudder rippled though him. "Keep fighting it, cause you want more Sam, more than just my blood." He undid his pants, pulled his shirt up and out of the way, then freeing his cock, started to gently stroke himself to Sam's words, imagining everything he said.

Sam licked his lips, "I work my way down to your cock, licking up the length and down the other side as I take you in my hand. Then run my tongue around the head, dipping into the slit. My hand is pumping you slowly as I lick you, and I want so bad to take you into my mouth, to swallow you whole, to feel you come down my throat, taste you..."

Dean groaned, wondering if Sam was coming up with this on his own or whether an oral sex scene was playing on the t.v. "God Sam, your tongue feels so wet, so good... I'm getting so damn hard watching you touch me like that. I need more... want more, want to feel the inside of your mouth." As Dean started to thrust into his fist, his breaths became more labored. He hit the speaker button on the cell phone and set it down on the chair. Throwing his head back, he wet his lips. "I try to reach for your head, wanting to shove it down and make you take me... all of me in your mouth, but the fucking cuffs... they won't let me. I tug on them... I lift my hips, I beg you. Please... please suck me off, I need it so bad... so fucking bad."

Sam groaned, squeezing his eyes closed tighter as he pictured it, imagined hearing Dean's desperate pleas for more. Taking a breath, he licked his lips, "I - I can't do it, Dean, I can't take you in my mouth, so I keep doing what I am, I keep licking you and pumping you slowly. I make my way farther down to your balls licking and sucking gently as my hand keeps stroking you. My teeth ache so bad that I'm not sure if I'm groaning because of that or because of the ache in my cock to have you. I grab your hip with my free hand to hold you down against the mattress as I slide further down, drop my head down lower, as I stroke you harder, my tongue darting out to lick your hole, taste you, feel you as much as I can. And God, it's just so good, Dean..."

Each time Sam denied him, told him he couldn't, Dean had to choke back a demand that he 'try.' He wanted Sam's mouth around him so bad, and if not live... then Goddamnit, he wanted it in when they had phone sex. "Sam I..." Then Sam was talking about sucking his balls and Dean's cock went hard as a rock, his skin stretching tight. "Unh..." he squeezed his eyes closed, his complaints dying on his lips.

Sam started to thrust harder into his hand, rolling over on the bed, he leaned up on one elbow, fisting himself as he lay on his stomach so he could pretend Dean was under him. "I lick you and press my tongue into you, moaning at the feel of how hot you are, how you writhe on the bed. I'm fucking your ass with my tongue, and stroking you faster now, and I ache so bad, I want you so much I could scream."

Only unintelligible sounds broke from the back of Dean's throat now that his mind was in the grips of images of Sam's tongue at his hole. Something even he had never thought of. "How..." his voice came out so strangled, he gave up. Instead of questioning, he stroked himself harder, faster, thinking about Sam's head between his legs, his tongue fucking him. "I... I'm lifting my hips... I'm outta control Sam, and if I weren't tied up, I'd be fucking the hell out of you now... oh God... oh God... what you do to me.... what you do to me, Sammy."

Sam bit his lip, thrusting harder into his fist, groans and small deep growls escaping from deep in his throat. "Oh God..." He swallowed, tried to clear his throat, the sound coming more like a deep whimper. "I - I keep fucking you with my tongue, as I bring my free hand down. Oh God, I want... I need to... Mm..." Sam panted, moaned long and loud into the phone, "I press a finger into you along with my tongue, and now I'm taking you with both and I can't stop, but it doesn't help the ache, it doesn't help at all. It makes me ache worse! My teeth hurt so bad, the blood is pounding in my temples so hard I can hardly think straight and all I can hear, all I can think about, is taking your blood, taking your body. Oh God, baby..."

Tension coiled tight in Dean's belly, his gut clenching in response to Sam's absolute need. He leaned over, forehead resting on the steering wheel as he stroked faster, harder, working himself closer to coming. "Then don't stop... take my body, take my blood Sam, anything you want... its safe, just do it. Get on top of me, fuck me and sink your teeth in my throat... no pain... it'll be good Sam, good for you, good for me... just do it." He remembered how good it was, how he'd awakened feeling like they'd fucked their brains out all night. "Anything you want... you can have."

"Oh God!..." Sam voice was strained, broken,wild. He nodded, though Dean couldn't see him, "Okay, okay, I pull my finger from you and start to kiss and lick my way back up your body. Pausing to lick up and down your cock, before I continue up... I..." Sam was at a loss, he what? He'd never _done_ this part before. How was he going to do it? How did he want to do it? Dean told him anything he wanted... what exactly _did_ he want? 

Swallowing hard, Sam opened his eyes and looked back over his shoulder at the television, watched as one guy hefted the others legs up and pushed into him. "I reach back and pull your legs up toward your chest, lining myself up with your hole. God I ache so back, want you so bad... I- I..." he frowned at the television, hand stilling on his erection as he watched the scene before him. Was that what he wanted? How was it that he didn't think it was? Why was it that the other guy’s place, the idea of Dean inside _him_ and not the other way around was what seemed to appeal to him more? How was _that_ ever going to work with how he wanted Dean to be bound?

"Yeah? Yeah, Sam?" Dean was leaning back against the headrest again," You what... what then, tell me." He wanted to hear the words, wanted Sam to describe what he was doing. "You can have me Sam, just tell me how. I wanna know." 

"I dunno, baby... I'm sorry," his voice was soft, choked, "I dunno, just - just come home. Need you... need you bad, wanna feel you. Not do this over the phone... please."

"So close... so fucking close... what's the matter?" Dean opened his eyes, biting his lip hard. "You really mean that?" 

Sam shook his head, eyes closing, "I dunno how to work this the way I want it to go." he told him softly, "I thought I knew, but I don't." he nodded, "Yes, I mean it. Come home, I'm in the basement. Come home and be with me, I want to feel you."

"Don't know what?" Dean shoved his aching cock back into his jeans, groaning at the intensity of his need for release. For half a second, he thought of just finishing himself off, but Sam's whispered pleas about getting the real thing were too much competition for his imagination. "Fifteen minutes, I'll be there. Get your clothes off, if they're not," he demanded, remembering what a pain they'd been the last time Sam had agreed to be tied down.

Sam blushed a soft shade of pink at Dean's question even though he was alone, choosing _not_ to answer it. He didn't want to tell Dean he was _that_ naive. It was one thing for his family to know it, a total other for Dean, if he didn't realize it already, he wasn't going to paint him a picture. The corner of Sam's lips quirked upward into an almost smile, "I'll be naked and waiting for you in five." 

He reversed the car and got onto the dirt road, making a face. "You're giving me blue balls. The plan was supposed to go the other way." Yeah, he'd wanted Sam so fucking horny from watching the dvds that he could barely speak. Somehow Sam had turned the tables on him, and here he was, hard as hell, racing to get home and hoping no cops, especially sheriff Swan, were around.

Sam gave a soft chuckle, "You _always_ give me blue balls, I'm just better at hiding it. See you soon. Love you... and Dean? Don't get stopped by the cops." with that Sam hung up his cell and sat up on the cot, reaching down to pull his tee up and over his head, tossing it onto the floor as he toed off his shoes. 

Naked, his clothes in piles of material all around the cot where he had tossed them, Sam lay on his back waiting for Dean to arrive, his attention focused on the television.

 _Five._ Dean stepped on the gas pedal, ready to out race any cop who tried to pull him over. 

By the time Dean was screeching to a halt in his driveway, he was feverish. It had been torture, stopping when he'd been so close to coming, and then driving while trying to get the image of Sam naked and waiting for him out of his head, that and trying to fight the instinct to just pull over and beat off even if Sam would be unhappy with him.

The instant he was through the door, he kicked it shut behind him. The sounds of heavy breathing and groaning echoed around him, from the t.v. in the living room, the big one upstairs, and from the one in the basement. Was Sam touching himself? Fuck....

Racing down the stairs, he hit his arm when he couldn't stop fast enough at the bottom. Cursing, he dragged the heavy steel door open and walked inside, eyes seeking and finding Sam instantly. When Sam looked away from the t.v. and at him, Dean could see the blush stealing over the vampire's cheeks. Slowly, he let his gaze travel the length of Sam's body, taking in the tightening of his abs, the way Sam's fully aroused cock arched up toward his stomach... just waiting for attention, the way Sam had one leg off the small cot, foot flat on the ground, displaying himself.

He tried to smile as he ripped his shirt off his body. "That what you want me to help you with?" he asked, jerking his chin toward Sam's cock.

Sam tore his gaze away from Dean's as he looked down at himself, at his rock hard arousal, as he licked his lips nervously. Dark eyes rose and met Dean's brilliant green gaze once more, "I thought maybe I could feel you a while first... until it gets to be too much." He swallowed hard, his eyes raking over Dean's form as his hands slowly clenched into fists at his sides.

"Here's where all that geometry and physics you drilled into me comes in handy," Dean teased, hoping Sam wouldn't go cold at the sight of him grabbing the chains from the wall. "You were busy redecorating, and... I've done some redecorating of my own. And he had, he'd installed steel bolts and hooks and various other hardware in the safe room so that he could tie Sam up in as many configurations as they could think of, and do it more comfortably. 

Sam's dark eyes followed Dean's movements, but he remained silent, and this time, Sam was better able to control the panic that started to grip him at the sight of the chains. He was far from relaxed, but he wasn't as panicked and scared as he had been in times past either.

Dropping to his hands and knees, Dean passed the chain through some steel loops on the ground, then secured Sam's ankle to the ground, pressing his mouth against his leg and kissing him slowly. He did the same to his other ankle, but kept the chain loose so that Sam's other foot was still on the cot. He cuffed Sam's wrists, with separate lengths of chain going through the cuffs so Sam could keep his wrists separated. Getting up and crossing the room, Dean hooked the last length of chain to a machine. When he came back, he had a remote in his hand, and he pressed it. Instantly, the chain started being pulled. "Look, you tell me when you need me to press it, okay?" If he hadn't hit the stop button, Sam's arms would have been spread wide, his other foot on the bed would have been dragged to the floor and secured tight against it.

When the chains started to pull and tighten just a small amount from the machine, Sam gasped softly, turning to look at it, before his gaze met Dean's again. "You - you made that?" Sam asked him, licking his lips and nodding, "I'll let you know when I need you to tighten the chain." Sam rolled his hips groaning softly, "Come 'ere."

Relieved and not at all disappointed by Sam's reaction, Dean stepped toward Sam, straddling the cot as he undid his pants and looked down at his sometimes shy, always adventurous lover. "See anything on the t.v. you want to try?" he asked, shoving his jeans half way down his thigh, together with his briefs and letting Sam see what condition he'd kept him in the entire drive home.

Sam's gaze moved from Dean's face to his erection curving upward toward his stomach, the pearl of moisture at the tip. He swallowed, tearing his gaze away to look back up at Dean's face as he nodded, "Yes, but," he shook his head, "I don't think I can. Just... let me touch you," Sam told him, reaching up, one hand going to Dean's cock, digits wrapping around his length, the other running up the side of Dean’s leg, gripping his thigh as Sam started to stroke him. "Would love to taste you... lick you... like on the phone."

Standing with his legs parted wide to account for the span of the cot was difficult, especially with Sam touching him like that. "Put your tongue out, Sam. Just do it," Dean urged, dropping to his knees on either side of Sam's chest, still being steadied by Sam's hand now on his hip. "Taste me. Just once Sam, taste me." Leaning over, he braced his weight with his hand on the cot and the other on the ground, after he shoved the remote slightly under the cot.

Sam frowned up at Dean, shaking his head. _Stick his tongue out? No, he couldn't, he shouldn't..._ His breaths came faster as Dean dropped down, his cock near Sam's face. _Oh God..._ Sam's teeth ached so bad, the blood pounded in his temples. Dean's blood called to him, he could hear it in the artery in Dean's thigh, hear the beat of his heart, the way it sang through smaller veins like a choir. 

As Dean leaned over him, a small whimper left Sam, his face contorted in the sweetest agony. In a moment of unthinkable lust, Sam lifted his head off the small pillow, as he allowed his tongue to dart out, traveling the length of Dean's cock a low groan escaping from deep in his throat the entire time.

Stomach contracting almost violently, Dean just barely restrained himself from shoving his cock into Sam's mouth. His pained groan echoed Sam's as he waited for his pink tongue to slip out one more time. When it didn't, and all that Dean could think about was wanting a repeat of the feel of Sam's tongue on him, he gripped his cock, and rubbed his tip back and forth over Sam's mouth, fully aware of the danger but unable to care. "Kiss... suck... once Sam... do it," he half demanded, half plead.

Sam half glared up at Dean, as he grit his teeth together, "I can't!" He ground out, his breaths coming hard and heavy, the bloodlust nearly driving him mad. "If I put you in my mouth," Sam shook his head, "You're not gonna like what happens." 

With a huffed groan, Sam's tongue darted out once again to run along Dean's length, circling the tip, and dipping into the slit before Sam pulled away, turning his head, eyes squeezed tightly closed. "I can't... Dean, please..."

"Oh God..." Dean took a few deep breaths to regain his control, then stood up abruptly and got the rest of his clothes off. When he sat back down on Sam, this time straddling his waist, he was flushed and so fucking needy, grinding his aching cock into Sam. "Now we both know what to imagine," he said, not at all sorry for pushing Sam. He brought his mouth down, sucking Sam's lower lip hard, the sound echoing around them, before he released him. 

Sam's head turned slowly, his eyes opening to watch Dean undress, his eyes hungrily devouring the site of Dean's naked body. Sam groaned long and deep as Dean came back and ground himself against him. He closed his eyes, head rolling as he drew in a breath between his teeth.

"Want you so bad, want to take you so bad, so many ways..." So many ways they couldn't try, Goddamit. It made Dean hurt to think about how much he wanted Sam's mouth all over him, wanted to feel the hesitating licks, hear the groans that broke out of him. 

"Oh God... yes, baby... want you so bad..." Sam's hips thrust upward trying for the contact, the friction he needed, _they_ needed. Sam's hands moved hack to Dean's hips, fingertips digging in as he held him.

He slid down Sam's body, his ass grinding Sam's arousal, teasing him, letting him feel his entrance, before he slid down a little more and aligned their cocks. "Wrap your leg around me." Again... dangerous... if he didn't pull the chains tight on time, he knew Sam could easily break his back simply by squeezing his legs too tight.

Sam gasped in a breath, eyes opening as his head came up off the pillow to look down at the area where their bodies met, before his gaze rose to Dean's. He did as Dean asked him, wrapping his legs around Dean's waist, pressing him close as he thrust up against him. "Oh God..." Sam gasped out, neck arching back, face contorted with the pleasure/pain. 

"Dean... I can't..." his teeth ached so bad, the pounding in his temples was driving him mad and the need for Dean's blood was over whelming. It called to him, sang to him, was all he could think about. Owning, possessing, devouring Dean in every way possible. "tighten the chains. Oh God... tighten the chains!" 

Sam's head rose off the cot, fangs bared a low growl breaking from deep in his throat. He lunged forward, aiming for any area of flesh on Dean he could find, any way to the sweet blood that lay just out of his reach, only to have his fangs meet with air.

Ready for anything, Dean whipped his body backwards, away from Sam's mouth. As he reached for the remote, his gaze skimmed over Sam's face, his expression so wild... so hard... so fucking feral. He pressed the button, but didn't let the chain pull all the way. "Not yet, I want you to touch me."

He had a death wish, that's all there was to it. That or he got off on the thrill of not dying when Sam attacked him, bit him, when Sam felt like the lowest being that ever drew breath. What did Dean mean, 'Not yet'?

Dean ignored the protest in Sam's eyes. Searching under the bed for a part of the chain, he brought up a suede covered length of it, and carefully secured it across Sam's forehead. It almost hurt to look at Sam like this, and he had to stop himself from thinking of all the stupid Frankenstein movies he'd seen or he’d lose his erection for sure. Now Sam couldn't raise his head, couldn't bite. 

Sam's dark eyes followed Dean's movements, watching as he brought up another length of chain covered in leather. He had to swallow down the panic, the memory of a length of chain very similar to that one that they had used to hold him still as those men had cut him... stole from him. Sam closed his eyes, telling himself over and over that it was Dean, it wasn't the same, as he took in gulps of air he really didn't need. It was amazing how something so human as breathing could sometimes make even a vampire relax a little.

"Put your arms hands around me, your hands on my ass, on my back," Dean demanded, laying down. "If I can't have you on top of me, then I want to feel you pulling me down, show me how it could be." Thrusting against Sam, Dean lowered his head and kissed his throat, drawing in his scent with every heavy breath. 

Sam slowly opened his eyes, looking up at Dean and licked his lips. He started to nod, only to find he was unable to move his head at all. Sam bit into his bottom lip as he raised his arms, wrapping them tightly around Dean, pressing him against his body. His hands ran down Dean's back, cupped his ass and pulled him down against him. Sam thrust upward in hard grinding motions. "Ung..." again, Sam tried to move his head, again he was unable. A small whimper broke out of him before he caught his bottom lip between straight white teeth, fangs digging into and cutting small punctures into Sam's own lip.

"Yes, yes," Dean grit out, trapped between Sam's heavy hands and his hips thrusting upwards under him. So good, so fucking good, so hard... they both were so damned hard. As damp fire scorched him everywhere they touched, he moved restlessly against Sam, wanting to fuck him... wanting to be inside him. Clamping down on that fantasy, he rasped. "Do you want to be inside me, Sam? Like in the vid?" 

Sam was mindlessly moving under Dean, thrusting his hips as he held onto Dean's body tightly, fingertips digging into tender flesh. Groaned growls broke from Sam's throat as he thrust and moved under Dean, needing, wanting more. His teeth aching, his temples pounding, his attention, his everything fixated on the blood, the bloodlust. He wanted it so badly, and he'd warned Dean, he'd told him. And he hadn't tightened the chains. _Oh, God..._

This lust, this need, this hunger was going to be the death of Sam. "Please..." he panted the word out, his legs tightening around Dean, his arms tightening around him, trapping Dean against him. He was Sam's for the taking, all he had to do was give in and he could end this exquisite painful torture.

Sam frowned, licking his lips, "Wha?" he shook his head, "I don't... I don't know... I - I don't think so. Please, Dean... I need you... please... I want your blood.. your body... it hurts so bad, so good..." Sam groaned in pleasure/pain, face contorting with it. "Oh God! Please..."

The intense peaks of pleasure were now dotted with pain as Sam became rougher than Dean could take. _Just a little more_ , he wanted to shout, wanting, needing Sam to put out the fires he'd started. It was only Sam's plea that broke through and had Dean’s finger finding the button on the remote.

"Okay Sam, it's gonna be okay," Dean crooned, pressing and watching as Sam's arms were pulled away from his body, and stretched to the sides, hanging over the sides of the cot. At the same time, he squirmed as Sam's leg was also pulled off him, his foot landing heavily on the ground. When the whirl of the machinery stopped, Sam no longer had much range of movement. 

Sam allowed the machine, the chains to pull his arms away from Dean, to pull his leg from around his waist, even as his eyes widened slightly with unease. His painful bloodlust, his arousal taking most of his attention. His teeth ached, blood pounding in his temples. Instinct had told him not to allow the chains to make Dean release him, had told him to fight them, but he had forced himself to allow it, to relax into what they did to him.

Dean rubbed his heavy arousal back and forth over Sam's trying to make him forget the chains. "Will it take the pain away? My blood," he asked, "let me give you some, Sam. Let me." 

Sam licked his lips, a small groan leaving him, "God, Dean... I want it so bad, want you so bad... if I could... God, if I could I'd drink you while you _fucked me_ , drink you as you came..." Sam's eyes rolled back in his head, thinking about it, as he writhed under Dean on the bed.

"Easy." Swallowing hard, Dean rolled half way off the cot to grab the knife that had come out of his boot when he'd been undressing. "Don't know about 'at the same time'... maybe if you drink slowly and make it last," he said, unable to imagine any way he'd be able to think about keeping himself safe from Sam's bite, and yet let him drink as they came. He wasn't _that_ good at multi tasking. 

Putting one knee on the ground, next to Sam's foot so he could get leverage to pull up, Dean sliced his forearm, biting his lips at the sting. Then he positioned his cut over Sam's mouth, not close enough to touch, but making sure the scarlet rivulets dripped into his mouth. 

Sam watched Dean as he sliced into the flesh of his arm, the scent of Dean's blood overloading his senses causing Sam to growl, lip curling in a snarl, fangs fully elongated, he groaned and arched his back, hands curling into tight fists as he grit his teeth. Dark hungry eyes watched as Dean moved his arm above his mouth and Sam's lips parted in anticipation, breaths heavy, panting. His chest rising and falling heavy with each one. 

As the first drop landed, Sam moaned, stilled, tongue darting out to catch the sticky wet warmth. _Oh God, he tasted so good..._ Sam's cock pulsed and twitched as he swallowed each droplet of Dean's delicious rich blood.

The first splash of blood on Sam's lips made Dean tense. He expected to be revolted, especially when Sam's tongue darted out and spread the redness. Instead, all he could see and sense and feel was the depth of Sam's hunger. Suddenly, his own lust spiked.

Groaning, Dean tried to fuck against Sam while keeping his arm steady, beads of sweat gathering on his forehead. "You meant... you want to be inside me," he corrected, knowing the movie would have gotten Sam interested in just that.

Sam shook his head slightly, attention focused on Dean's arm, lips parted as he fought to catch every drop. Licking his lips, dark eyes darted to Dean's face briefly, "No, want you inside me. Wanna _feel_ you." Sam opened his mouth again, eyes and attention returning to the crimson droplets.

Instinctively grinding his pulsing cock against Sam as his lover's words stirred up the most sweetly torturous images, Dean groaned. His fingers tightened on the edge of the cot, while he struggled like a sonovabitch to keep his blood from dripping anywhere but where Sam could catch it. "You sure Sam? Me inside you?" he asked, surprised and unsure. "Not like in the movie... reverse of the movie?" he asked, barely daring to hope. He'd always been willing to let Sam fuck him, but in his every daydream, it had been him fucking the powerful vampire. "Oh God please tell me... how do you want it?"

Sam licked every drop of blood from his lips, hungry for more, wanting, needing more. His gaze darted to Dean's face, "I thought I wanted it that way, I thought I wanted to be inside you, I thought that was what I was suppose to want, but..." his tongue darted out to lick away the blood from his lips, darting out to lick his chin as the blood dripped down from talking. "But, I don't think I do. I saw the movie... watched... and I wanted to be the one feeling you, the one being stretched, the one filled with your cock, feeling your need." Sam tore his gaze from his face as he licked up the blood from his lips once again, his eyes back on the droplets dripping down for him, "more, Dean... I need more..." Sam moaned, his eyes closing briefly as he writhed. He opened his eyes again, ebony locking with jade, "please."

"Really?" Dean breathed out, his chest constricting so tight it almost hurt. "I want that too... want to be so deep inside you... want to feel you from the inside," he nodded. "Want to fuck you, baby... gonna fuck you." He dipped his hand down, letting his wound rest against Sam's mouth for a fraction of moment, taking it away after allowing the briefest suction pulling on his skin. 

Sam nodded his head, his eyes fixed on the cut dripping blood into his mouth. His eyes dropped to Dean, just before his hand lowered to his lips. Sam latched on eagerly a small whimper leaving him as Dean pulled it away far too quickly. _No, please... more... I need it... want it..._

The way he had Sam tied down was not ideal for what they wanted. What the hell else was new? He cursed under his breath... if he'd known, he'd have done this all different. But there was no time to start over, not when he was so fucking close to the edge... not when he knew that in the next minute, he could be inside Sam, fucking him hard like he'd always wanted.

One knee on the cot, Dean slid his other then over Sam's open thigh, bringing the flat of his foot down on the ground slightly above Sam's foot. This way, his cock was positioned against Sam's hole and he could fuck him with only a little discomfort. The next time his tip scraped across Sam's hole, he felt Sam tense, felt him arch. He wanted to give him a hard kiss, wanted to keep his mouth and tongue occupied with his, wanted to catch his every breath. Knowing he couldn't do any of that, he crawled forward until his mouth was over Sam's ear. 

Sam swallowed hard as he watched Dean. He wanted this, he'd hungered for this and more. Now, faced with the moment, Sam was afraid, shy, unsure. What if he got too wound up and somehow managed to hurt Dean? What if this wasn't what he wanted? What if he was wrong? He wanted to hold him, touch him, have his arms wrapped around Dean to anchor him. As it was, he felt exposed, floating in the mindless haze of mingled lust and bloodlust. 

As Dean lowered his mouth to his ear, Sam sighed out a breath, licking his lips, his eyes closing as Dean's warm breath ghosted over his flesh. Sam bit his bottom lip, his hands reaching up to grip the chains, holding on tightly as he squeezed his eyes tightly closed.

Dean started to thrust slowly, not penetrating, but getting Sam used to his presence. He started to sing in his ear, not trying to get the melody right or anything... the words, it was the words of the song that were important. It was a song that often pounded in his ears as he thought of Sam, of fucking him. “ _You let me violate you. You let me desecrate you. You let me penetrate you. You let me complicate you._ ”

Sam's brow furrowed as he listened, eyes remaining closed.

Smearing the wetness leaking from his tip around Sam’s hole, Dean started to push inside, still whispering the words of the song as he thrust. Sam was so fucking tight, it almost hurt to penetrate him. Groaning, Dean pushed harder, feeling Sam's muscles close around him. The intensity of heat engulfing him suddenly was almost too much to bear. "Sam..." he groaned, “ _I want to fuck you like an animal. I want to feel you from the inside. I want to fuck you like an animal. My whole existence is flawed. You get me closer to god._ ”

As Dean pushed into him, Sam's lips parted, a gasp leaving him, he tugged on the chains, instinctively wanting to wrap his arms around Dean, hold him, feel him in his arms, anchor himself to him. His breaths panted out as he felt his body stretch to fit Dean, felt the sensations Dean was feeling, felt his bloodlust ratchet up another notch. Sam grit his teeth, his chest rising and falling hard as a strangled cry tore from his throat, his mingled lust and bloodlust riding him like a bitch, pushing him to break free and attack, take, drink, quench his thirst, his longing.

Even as he sensed Sam's restless energy, tremors of heat and pleasure rocked Dean's world. Wanting the same for Sam, he tried to angle his body slightly, thrusting now with more deliberate motions... trying to find Sam's gland. There was no mistaking when he got it right. The cot practically jumped off the ground at the force with which Sam tried to thrust upwards. "Gotcha baby." 

Closing his eyes, Dean pulled out half way, then drove inside Sam again, hard... finding his sweet spot. “ _Help me. Tear down my reason. Help me. It's your sex I can smell._ ” Having to remember the words helped Dean keep in control despite his hunger, despite the need to just fuck Sam into the mattress and come the way he'd needed to so long ago... from when he was still in the Impala.

He was using Sam's shoulder to anchor himself, pulling on it and at the same time on the leg he'd hooked over Sam's thigh to help get the force he needed... wanted... as he moved in and out of Sam. So good... it was so good. Sam was clenching around him so tight, making him practically gurgle with pleasure. He started to fuck harder, like a piston, moving the cot with every thrust, his face over Sam's watching him... desperately hoping he could give him more blood as they came... just the way Sam wanted.

Moans and groans broke from Sam's throat, growls sounding deep in his chest as he held onto the chains, knuckles turning white, his body tensing as sensations washed over him in waves. His breath panted out as he opened his eyes, staring up at Dean. "So... so full, so good. Oh God..." he licked his lips drawing in a shaky breath, "want to move, God, want so bad to touch you..." Sam's eyes closed as he bit his lip. He pressed back against each of Dean's thrusts as best as he could held in the chains, his cock twitching and pulsing, leaking precum steadily.

Dean could barely think. He wanted all those things Sammy wanted too, wanted them so damned bad. Imagining Sam touching him drove him closer to the edge. At the relentless pace he set, soon they'd find peace, both of them. 

Sam's eyes opened, pupils lust blown within their inky black depths. Sam felt the heat coil low in his belly, his blood lust sweep through him in an aching tide that pushed him toward the source, told his instincts to use his natural abilities against his prey, feed. His teeth throbbed, aching, the pounding in his temples causing him to nearly cringe, the sound, the smell of Dean's blood, the beat of his heart. 

"Oh God... too much... too much... I can't..." Sam tugged and thrashed against the chains, a deep growl sounding in his throat as sensation after sensation crashed over him.

Dean knew it was time... now or never. He had no idea how he managed it... finding the strength to cut himself again, finding the will to hold his arm above Sam's mouth and to make sure he didn't drop it even as he fucked Sam so hard, he was sure he was bruising himself in the process. Deep strokes, followed by a few shallow ones, then he'd just grind against Sam, trapping Sam's cock between them... feeling it press into his belly like a heated branding rod. "I'm coming Sam... inside you... I'm coming," he groaned as his balls drew up tight and choked the rest of the words out of his throat. Eyes screwed shut, he mindlessly fucked Sam, riding the waves of his orgasm.

Sam was too lost in the mindless haze of bloodlust and lust to even notice Dean cutting himself again, until the scent of Dean's blood, fresh and raw and oh-so-close, dark and delicious, hot, spicy and right the fuck there, drew his attention and Sam looked upward just as the first drop of blood fell into his mouth. His balls drew up as he drank, as he lapped the blood almost out of the air in a mindless frenzy. His back arched as he pressed against Dean, heard his choked tortured words. A deep groaned whimper leaving him, Sam's body tensed, every muscle taut, before his eyes rolled, his orgasm crashing over him, his jism coating his own stomach. 

The sight of Sam coming was too much. Dean couldn't make his pleasure last as long as he wanted, but he'd never come so hard in his entire life. Buried to the hilt inside Sam, he gave a cocky grin, “ _feel you from the inside..._ ” he sang. Then waiting another minute, he collapsed on Sam, face buried in his throat, and arm still held high. 

The sounds Sam was making, the way he was still tensing and releasing under him had Dean swallowing hard. It was like Sam was coming a different way, from feeding. Looking into his eyes, he didn't know when Sam would be done... if ever. "Put your tongue out Sam, one lick," he said, waiting. When he saw Sam's tongue dart out, he pressed his wound against it, gaze narrowing and pulling away when Sam tried to get more. 

_More!_ Sam looked at Dean, his expression begging him for it, demanding it be given to him. He tasted so good, it felt so good... Slowly Sam closed his eyes for a moment, fought to rein in the needs that swam through him. 

Knowing the scent would continue to drive Sam nuts, Dean took the knife and looked at Sam for permission. 

Slowly Sam opened his eyes to find Dean holding the knife, looking to him expectantly. He bit his lip as darkest golden hazel met brilliant green. "Go ahead. Do it." Sam told him softly after a moment’s hesitation.

The only reason Dean hesitated was that Sam was chained. He didn't want Sam to ever associate new cuts with being chained, to fear it, or to remember those dark days. Still, he couldn't free Sam unless Sam came to his senses completely, and so long as Sam could smell his fresh blood, that wasn't gonna happen. Making a very shallow cut across Sam's forearm, he put his wound over Sam's, threading their fingers together as their blood mingled. "I love you Sam. I... we did it," he nodded, knowing Sam hadn't yet registered how far they'd gone. "We did it... not for public consumption on the news... but we did it... we fucked!" 

Sam licked his lips, the corner of his lips quirking upward, "Mm...yeah...?" he knew, somewhere beyond the bloodlust, he knew, but right now, his mind was too fogged to remember, to think about it. Slowly, the bloodlust began to clear like fog in the sunlight, dissipating and clearing until Sam's mind was free to focus on something else besides the smell, the sounds, the need, the absolute hunger for the taste of blood.

By the time Dean looked at his wound, it was gone. So was most of the darkness in Sam's eyes. Dean hit the button, to loosen the chains and started to help Sam get free of them. 

Sam started to move when Dean did, pulling at the chains as soon as he heard the machine kick on, forcing the machine's engine to work faster so he could wrap his arms around Dean. "Mm.." Sam glanced upward, "my head?" he asked smiling at Dean, wanting his head free. "You know, when you leaned down... put your mouth next to my ear," Sam sighed softly, and closed his eyes as he licked his lips, still curved in a soft smile, "I thought you were going to say something sweet," he told him, opening his eyes, "not sing ‘Close To Me,'" he chuckled softly.

Dean quickly released Sam’s head from the bindings, giving him a mock glare. "You mean when I sang 'I Want To Fuck You Like An Animal?'" He chuckled. "That _was_ sweet, and romantic. Yes it was... I can't think of anything more romantic. What? You wanted me to sing 'I Like Pina Coladas?'" 

Sam quirked a brow at him, frowning playfully, "Why would you sing that? Because you 'like makin' love at midnight'?" he chuckled and rolled, pinning Dean under him as soon as he was free. "I might not have watched a lot of television before you, but I listened to a lot of music," he smiled, "And no, I was thinking maybe something more like 'Kiss From A Rose' maybe..."

Squirming under Sam's weight, loving how he was being pressed into the thin mattress, Dean ran his hands over Sam's back and ass. "Nah... needed something with a rhythm. If I fucked you at that pace, you'd be ready to kill me now. But I can try... next time..." he made it sound like a threat.

Sam smirked at him, "Mm... do you even know the words? Or would you make them up as you go?" he chuckled and sighed, "too bad that I can't..." he let his gaze drop, licking his lips, before he looked back into Dean's face, "take you into my mouth... I could hum it for you... nice and slow..." Sam started to sing, " _Baby, to me you're like a growing addiction that I can't deny, won't you tell me is that healthy, baby? But did you know, that when it snows my eyes become large and the light that you shine can be seen._ "

Dean didn't know the words, but he could almost feel Sam around him, humming... would give anything for that. He jerked his hips up. "Go ahead Sam, keep it up... get me horny, but don't blame me if I'm all over you in a minute." He nuzzled Sam's throat as he listened to him sing some more, smiling because his voice was terrible... and yet it was beautiful. When Sam stopped, Dean cleared his throat. "So ... Vampires... kinda like Sirens, with the irresistible voice thing going, huh?" Lifting his face, he was unable to hide the mirth in his eyes.

Sam gazed down at Dean, jaw clenched as if angry, before answering, "No, actually. It's how we torture our prey," he lied smoothly, one hand absently running along Dean's arm, "You should hear Emmett do it, I feel sorry for his quarry. The poor bastards don't stand a chance." Sam told him with a straight face, hiding his amusement. His fingers laced with Dean's before he lowered his head, running his tongue along Dean's jaw line. "All over me, huh?" he whispered the question next to Dean's ear.

"You know it." He completely put the thought of Emmett torturing prey out of his mind. Squirming around, he tried to chase Sam's mouth. "I think we need a bigger cot in here, this is ridiculous... I'm sleeping in it with a giant." He managed to brush Sam's lips before Sam moved again. "Bastard."

Sam chuckled and shook his head slightly, "Giant?" he glanced down at himself, "Nah, not that big," purposely misunderstanding Dean's comment. Sam moved more on top of Dean, sliding his free hand down to lace his fingers with Dean's open hand, then brought them both up over his head. "Better? Now you aren't sharing the cot." Sam dipped his head again, running his tongue along the shell of Dean's ear, "I think you created a monster," he told him softly.

"Bout damn time. Who knew a skin flick would be the ticket?" Dean closed his eyes as Sam teased him with his wet tongue. "One day I'm gonna fuck you just like this. You on top, me on the bottom... inside you." The thought had him smiling and slightly horny. "What do you think Sam, you wanna ride me like that sometime?" 

Sam stilled, tongue pulling back into his mouth as he drew in a breath, eyes darkening. "Not a good image to give me right now," he managed to whisper out, rocking his hips against Dean to show him the proof of the danger already starting again. 

Slowly Sam drew his head back and looked down at Dean through darkened golden hazel eyes. "This would all be _much_ easier if you were a vampire. Then I could drink and suck and fuck you until we both passed out."

"Or if you were human, I could keep you horny and fuck you all I wanted... before class, between classes, after class... all night." Dean blew out a breath, and squeezed Sam's hand. "And we could drink milk shakes in between... you know, for energy." He tried to arch up to kiss Sam, giving him a questioning look when Sam didn't meet him half way.

Sam's face fell as he shook his head, "I can't _be_ human. I'm sorry, but I can't. You..." he licked his lips, "you could _be_ a vampire. I - I can't do it, but I'd be there, I'd hold you while my dad took care of it, I'd protect you, soothe you..."

"You're serious?" Dean frowned. It would solve a lot of their issues. All their issues. He blew out another breath. "I can't... I can't do that Sam." He took a deep breath. "Maybe we should go break in that jacuzzi."

Sam's face fell even more before he pulled away, letting go of Dean and sitting up. "You go ahead," he reached for his clothes, "I think I need to go for a walk."

The instant Sam recoiled from him, cold air hit Dean's skin. Biting his lip, he swung his legs over the side of the cot in the direction opposite of Sam, through they were sitting side by side. "You're angry because I won't? Sam, my dad's probably rolling around in his grave right now because I'm hot and heavy with a vampire. And about giving my blood..." he shuddered, sure that John Winchester would be convinced he was possessed or not himself, and kill him over that. "I've crossed the line a hundred times with you, but there's only so far I can go." He put his hand on Sam's cheek and looked him in the eyes, willing him to understand.

Sam pulled his head away from Dean's hand, "Don't do me anymore favors. I wouldn't want you to upset your dead father." He stood to his feet, pulling on his boxers and jeans, and reached for his shirt, "I'm not a monster, Dean. You even said it before. I'm not like those vampires you hunt. If you don't want to be one, that's fine, but don't sit there and tell me how your father would be rolling in his grave over us. And how giving me your blood would..." he pulled his shirt over his head and huffed, "just never mind. I need to get out of here." Sam turned and headed for the door, "I'll see ya around," he muttered, though loud enough that Dean could hear him.

"Sam. Sam!" Dean cursed up a storm as he gathered his clothes. He heard the door bang shut, and cursed some more. "You know, only YOU can ruin a perfect moment like this," he shouted, knowing damned well Sam would hear him. 

_Goddamit_ , was it really that hard to understand? His parents were hunters. His grandparents had been hunters. How could Sam expect him to put all that aside, when that was all he had? Stark naked, he marched up the stairs and passed the kitchen without stopping for a snack like he'd intended on getting earlier, and turning the television off, headed up to his room. 

*

Sam went outside and climbed into his car, sat there for a long moment, head back against the headrest. It wasn't that Dean didn't want to be a vampire, he could respect that, he was disappointed as hell and it had made him a little sad, but okay, it was Dean's choice. He'd intended to just walk off the hurt, just think it through, maybe go talk to Alice or his dad. But then Dean had said those things about his father, making it sound like being with him was a horrible thing, like he was a monster, like... like... God, like Dean was doing him a _favor_! 

Sam grit his teeth, tears in his eyes as he pulled his head up and reached for the ignition, starting his car. He backed out of the drive, gunning it as he did, the tires squealing and kicking up dust and gravel, before turning his car around and driving off at speeds even faster than usual. 

He didn't have any idea where he was going, didn't even think about it as he drove, he just needed to get away, get away from the hurt, away from the words that kept playing over and over in his mind, away from Dean. Wherever he ended up, he wasn't sure that he'd be coming back anytime soon.

*

Dean had kept himself busy, cleaning his weapons, getting his make-up homework done, and doing a bit of research. He tried to tell himself he wasn't pissed off at Sam, for leaving him like that. Again. Then he told himself Sam would come back. Kept telling himself that until it was almost four in the morning, and he dropped down on top of the bed and closed his eyes. Tomorrow, there'd be hell to pay.


	19. Chapter 19

Sam had driven for hours, not knowing where to go or what to do. He didn't want to go running home, he'd have to hear Rosalie's 'I told you so's' for hours, Alice would be pissed, and his brothers would likely avoid him like the plague. He didn't want to go back to Dean's either, he was still too hurt and upset. He didn't understand how after everything, Dean could say things like that to him. Sure, he got that Dean's family were hunters, and that their son’s involvement with a vampire went against what they believed ... but dammit all, it didn't mean it hurt any less when it was said out loud, or when Dean said it like his love was a favor. 

He’d ended up pulling his Camero to a stop in front the bondage club he had gone to with Dean. He wasn't even sure why he was there. But, he decided to go in anyway, maybe mingling with people would get his mind off the pain. Inside, he’d blended into the shadows of the bar, not really taking to anyone and definitely not drinking any of the horrid concoctions that they served. 

Sam’s gaze and thoughts were focused on the same mattress on the other side of the room where he’d had that first day dream. Images of himself and Dean on it, tangled and sweaty dancing in his brain, he hardly realized anyone else was nearby until someone approached. The stranger had introduced himself and didn't seem to know how to take no for an answer, which in light of Sam's current mood was not a very smart thing. Between Sam's state of near arousal at the thoughts of Dean that had been running through his mind, the sweet scent of blood and the beat of a heart so close as the man leaned in to whisper things in Sam's ear, and the ache in Sam's heart at the thought that he was, in Dean's eyes, in truth, a monster. Sam had found himself feeding before he knew what was happening. 

Luckily, the _monster_ in question seemed to have the remains of a heart, as Sam had all but shoved the man away before he could drain him dry. He had turned and fled the club in a blur after that. That was four hours ago.

Parking in front of Dean's house, Sam leapt up to the bedroom window and let himself in, entering quietly as he found Dean laying sprawled on their bed, appearing to be fast asleep.

Dean's hand instinctively went under his pillow for the gun, but he lifted his head and saw Sam's distinctive shape. "Remembered you got a home?" He just moved over, eyes blazing as he stared at the vampire.

Sam gave a curt nod as he pulled off his shirt and toed off his shoes, "Something like that," he answered, voice flat. Sam didn't remove his jeans, before moving to lay down on the bed, keeping to 'his side'.

A little time passed, and Dean couldn't get comfortable. This wasn't how they slept usually, dammit. And he wasn't gonna. Lifting up, he rolled closer and lay his head on Sam's chest, pressing his nose into his throat. He sniffed. Frowned, then sniffed again, before jackknifing to a sitting position. "Where were you?" He knew Sam hadn't been with his family, none of them smoked.

Sam looked up at Dean a long moment, "How is it exactly you would answer that question? Oh right, **out**."

"Don't be cute, it's too fucking late for that." Ordinarily Dean wouldn't have persisted, but the fact that Sam was being secretive made him wonder. "Where Sam?"

Sam sighed, "I went to that club, the bondage one. Why?"

That had _not_ been the answer Dean expected. He was silent for a long moment. "Exactly. Why?"

Sam quirked a brow at him, "Why?.. what?"

"Why did you go there? You don't go to clubs Sam. And a bondage club, alone?" As ideas formed in Dean's mind, his voice became harder. "What were you doing there," he demanded, his words spaced out.

"I didn't know where I was going. I just..." he shrugged and sighed, "ended up there. It wasn't like I planned it."

"What wasn't planned?" He was good at picking up subtle hints, and Sam was no good at hiding things, it wasn't in the vampire's nature. "Sam, _what_ wasn't planned." When he didn't answer fast enough, Dean scrambled off the bed and stared down at him. "Cut the crap. I'm not playing twenty questions. Tell me what the fuck happened, what did you do? Did you let someone else fuck you Sam? Did you fuck someone?" He thought about the bondage equipment, the effect it had on Sam that one night they'd been there. But it couldn't hold Sam... no way, none of it had been made of special materials. As possibilities ran through his mind, Dean got tenser.

Sam sat up with a huff, "No, Dean! I didn't fuck anyone and no one fucked me! I'm not _you_!" he glared at him, "I had a bite. That was all, it wasn't my fault. The guy wouldn't leave me alone, kept leaning in and telling me I smelled like Creme de Mint," he huffed, turning his head away, "I'd been thinking about you and me and..." Sam licked his lips, shook his head, "I was kinda aroused, I could hear his heart, smell his blood and..." he huffed and pulled from the bed, "somehow this _monster_ was able to pull away before it was too late. But, at least you don't have to worry, it wasn't you. Your father is safe from spinning in his grave tonight."

The blood shot straight to Dean's temples. Eyes filled with fire, he strode toward Sam. "Let me get this straight. Some random guy gave you a compliment, told you smell like mint, and you fucking gave it up for _him_? Sonovabitch... Sam, sonovabitch," he pushed him back against the wall, eyes wild. "Because I don't want to be a vampire, it gives you the right to go and give some guy the mind fuck of his life?" His chest heaved as he remembered the night Sam drank from him... pure ecstasy, hours and hours of it, and now Sam had given it to some other guy. Gripping Sam's waistband and belt, he pulled him back and then shoved him again. "Sonovabitch."

Sam gripped Dean's wrist in his hand, "Dean, just stop." he moved his hand away from him, "I didn't give anything 'up' to the guy. I told him to beat it, that I wasn't interested. Then before I realized what was happening I had grabbed him and was drinking. It wasn't on purpose and I didn't kill him." he huffed and pulled away from the wall, "Can we just forget about this? Please? I got the hell out of there after that and came home."

Dean grabbed his arm and swung him back around. "No we can't fucking forget about it," he shouted at the top of his lungs. "You really think it's alright, what you did? That I'll be okay with it? No you don't... you fucking know it isn't okay or you wouldn't have been all cagey about it."

"You don't have to scream at me, I'm right here. I'm not being 'cagey', but, do I think what I did was okay? No, I don't, Dean. I _drank_ from someone. I could have killed him! So, no, I think it's far from 'okay' and I feel like shit about it, but I don't need _you_ pointing out to me how wrong it was! Alright!? I know!"

"You gave him what was _mine_ , damn you. Damn you," voice lowered to a whisper Dean turned away from him before he could see the goddamned tears pricking his eyes. Raising his arm to prevent Sam from coming around to face him, he stalked to the window, taking in a few cool breaths, his emotions warring uncontrollably inside him.

Sam frowned at him in confusion, watching as he walked to the window, "Dean, I told you. I never touched him other than to drink from him, okay? God... I wouldn't do that. I..." he sighed, "you might think I'm a monster, but I'm better then that!" he huffed as he hung his head shaking it. 

Sam walked toward the stairs, "I'll leave you so you can get some sleep. I'll just be downstairs."

Ten minutes later, Dean walked down the stairs, shrugging his jacket on and storming right past Sam and out the door. He was still fuming, and hurt, but worst of all, he hadn't been able to vent. He fumbled with the keys, and finally got the car door open.

Sam walked out the door, standing on the porch, "Are you going to stay angry at me forever? I know what I did was wrong, reckless. I didn't mean to. I'm sorry." he sighed, crossing his arms over his chest as he descended the porch stairs, "Where are you going?"

"Out," Dean ground out, using Sam's own words. "Why?" This time he parroted his own question to Sam from earlier. "Because I'm going to find myself some guy or girl who likes my cologne and then I'm gonna have some hot phone sex with them, but it's okay Sam... because nothing will have happened, it's just talk. You know the drill. Have a fun day." He slammed his door shut and started the car.

"GOD DAMMIT!" Sam screamed at him, rushing to Dean's car with vampire speed and lifting the front end. "Don't be a fucking asshole! I didn't fucking talk sex with the jerk! What the hell is your problem!?"

Rolling his windows down, Dean demanded Sam let go of the car. Goddammit he was gonna break the Impala and if he did.... "Shit." He turned the car off and waited for Sam to set it down, then opened the door and advanced on him. "You didn't? What happened when you drank from me Sam? What happened... what, you got short vampire memory all of a sudden? You don't remember my trance... you gave _that_ to someone else, and I'm okay with it? Well fuck you, Sam. I'm going to give what's only yours... phone sex... to someone else. Then I wanna hear you say how okay it is. Now don't fucking touch my car again, or I will _break you_ ," he shouted, pointing at his chest.

Sam glared at him, "Oh, we're playing tit for tat? I guess that means I get to go fuck some random whores then... oh wait, but YOU wouldn't _feel_ it like I would... same goes with making out with so damn many I can't count them all. I know... after I fuck you, may be I can tell you how you're just a fucking HUMAN and how MY dad is probably up in our EXPENSIVE house thinking that I'VE lost MY fucking mind for being with YOU! Then maybe we'll be even! Huh? How would THAT be, Dean!? ONLY after I hurt you like that, only THEN do you have the right to ACCIDENTLY have phone sex because your heart is breaking and you've been thinking about me and someone won't leave you alone and all you can hear is their heart and... " Sam turned and smashed a fist into a tree, "FUCK!" the answering sound of wood splintering before the tree tumbled over filled the air.

"Shit!" Dean jumped at the sound, his heart racing even faster. His face snapped back toward Sam who knew damned well that Dean hadn't made out or done anything with anyone but him ever since he returned from Canada. As for the rest of the crap he was spewing... "You're twisting my words. I never insulted you for being a ..." he didn't say the word, wary of the neighbors... unlike Sam who should be. "If what I said hurt, I'm sorry... but you took it all wrong, and instead of asking me you fucking took off to a goddamn club. When have you gone to a club before?" he gave a snort. From what he knew, Sam had been dragged to Ginks a couple of times but hardly stepped into clubs and bars before hanging out with him. 

He took a couple of deep breaths, trying not to imagine what mint-breath-guy at the club looked like, trying to beat down his emotions and be rational this time. "What if I was a werewolf, Sam? What if you loved me. You think you'd let me change you into one?" He raised his hands up to cut off arguments. "Forget whether it's possible. Would you let me? Would you really not care what Carlisle and Esme and all the others would think? Be honest here, your family holds a lot of power over you. Well so does mine, Goddamit. They may be gone, but they're still there in the back of my mind."

Sam clenched his jaw, glaring at Dean, not answering for a few moments. "No. I wouldn't, vampire's don't lie with dogs. So, it wouldn't happen anyway..." he huffed, "but if it did, I... probably not." he told him, his voice lowering, the anger subsiding from his tone. "It's not why I left... I left when you hurt me. There's a difference between saying 'no' and saying that your parents would be rolling in their grave."

"Because my parents are dead... and it's just a _saying_ Sam." Dean shook his head and shoved his hands in his pockets. "Same as you maybe saying your Alice would tear me to shreds if I were a werewolf and tried to change you. Or hey, they're always threatening me, right?" He looked up at Sam. "You know my dad. You _know_ him. Tell me I'm wrong. It's just a fact, Sam... nothing to do with you and me, or how I feel about you. Dammit you know I don't care that you're a vamp... hell, I kinda like it... especially when you flash those fangs at me. _Just me_." Though he was trying to be funny, his last words were edged in steel. 

Sam shook his head, gaze on the ground, "It's not an expression. Alice _would_ tear you to shreds." He looked up at Dean, nodding, "Yeah, well, knowing how your parents feel about the supernatural is a lot different than having it tossed in your face. Sorry, but it hurt. I can respect that you don't want to be what I am. Fine. Whatever. You'll grow old and one day and I'll have to watch you die, but somehow, I'll deal with it. Until then, I just don't like hearing about how your parents wouldn't like to know about us." 

Sam looked away, "I know what I am," he looked back at Dean, "I was never given the choice of whether I wanted it or not. I'd never force this on someone else." Raising a hand, Sam wiped at his eyes and sniffled, "I didn't mean to drink. I know it makes me no better than the vamps you hunt, I'm sorry. It..." he shook his head, "I have no excuse. I should have been stronger, forgive me...please?"

"No." 

The single word cracked like a whip in the otherwise silent front yard. Dean crossed the lawn and stood right in front of Sam, eyes drilling into hazel gold. "Not unless you promise me you won't drink from anyone... not ever again. And... I want you to drink from me, right now... no excuses... I want you to do it right now, get that guy's taste out of your mouth." He walked, forcing Sam toward the porch.

Sam backed up the stairs until he was pressed against the door, golden hazel intent on green he shook his head. "I -I swear, I'll never drink from anyone else, but I can't - I can't drink from you. I shouldn't have drunk from him! I could have killed him! I don't know _how_ I stopped, but I did, I heard his heart skip a beat and I stopped, I knew it was...." Sam frowned, "time." he shook his head, "I don't even know what that _means_! I can't..."

Pushing his hand behind Sam's back, Dean opened the door, forcing Sam through it, then whipping around to press him against it again, this time protected from the view of neighbors who might have heard the ruckus and gotten up right before dawn. His gaze was locked with Sam's. "That’s not gonna cut it. I said no excuses. You stopped for _him_ , you will goddamn stop for me." And he had before, so why the fuck was he acting as if it was impossible. "Do it." Gritting his teeth, Dean grabbed a handful of the shirt Sam had thrown on, and pulled him down at the same time arching his neck and pressing his throat against Sam's mouth. "Do it."

"Dean..." Sam's words were cut off as his lips hit Dean's neck, flat against the pulse there. A small whimper sounded in Sam's throat, as his arms wrapped around Dean, his tongue darting out to lick the line of veins on the side of Dean's neck, small undetectable ones to the naked eye, but ones he could feel blood moving through on the end of his tongue. "Dean... I'm scared of hurting you..." He complained softly, arms tightening around him, "what if I don't stop, what if I drain you?" he groaned, "your blood... it's not the same... tastes better, richer, sweeter to me... it excites me."

No amount of explanation would cut it for Dean. Sam could tell him he was sorry twenty days from Sunday, he could explain, he could give his excuses, but Dean was fixated on one thing... Sam tasted someone else, and that someone was out there having the time of his life just about now, probably imagining himself fucking Sam's brains out. "You gave away what was mine tonight. You give it back to me Sam, or I will _never_ forgive you." He rubbed his throat back and forth against Sam's mouth, feeling his pulse jump.

Sam gasped, shuddered, tears stinging his eyes as he fought instinct, fought with his emotions, fear and bloodlust riding him. "Dean..." he whispered his name, choking back a sob as his lip curled, revealing is fangs. "I don't want to..." he cried softly, tears running from his eyes even as his fangs sank into Dean's neck and he drank deeply.

The initial sting of pain was nothing compared to the feeling of Sam's mouth working his throat, dragging in his lifeblood with every swallow, pulling him deeper and deeper into a pain free world where they could be together however they wanted. No stupid chains on Sam. No dodging his fangs. No stopping to check his eyes. None of that.

A groan broke out of Dean as he felt Sam undress him, then hold him tight like he'd never leave him. They kissed wildly as Dean protested all the clothes Sam was still wearing. It wasn't fair. And then Dean couldn't think anymore, not when Sam had him laying back on the stairs, and his head was between his legs. Dean made another deep sound at the first touch of Sam's mouth closing around his cock. "Yes... yes Sam, just like that... just like that..." his eyes rolled back as he became lost in a world of pleasure.

Sam he cried softly as he drank, unsure that he would be able to stop, after long moments, after fighting against the bloodlust, fighting against his desire to take everything Dean had to give him, Sam pulled his head back with an audible gasp, Dean falling limp in his arms. He could still hear his beating heart, still hear the blood singing through Dean's veins. Thank God... he had stopped in time. 

Sam reached down, scooping Dean into his arms as though he weighed nothing and carried him up the stairs to their bed, laying him down gently before joining him, pulling him into his arms and holding him. Sam sniffled as he watched, listened to Dean. He had no idea what it was Dean was seeing, no idea what was happening in Dean's mind, but one thing he did know, Dean was apparently very turned on by it. Sam could smell his arousal, feel his lust... Sam groaned softly, squeezing his eyes closed as he laid his forehead against Dean's head. "I'm so sorry, baby." he whispered.

"Not mint... cookies... not mint... cookies..." Dean chanted over and over, not knowing why as he lifted his hips and fucked Sam's mouth. God he felt so good, so wet around his cock, sucked so hard. "Sam... good Sam... more..." he threw his head back, watching his vampire from under his lashes. "Sam..."

Sam ran a hand through Dean's hair, fighting against his own arousal, fighting to not make this into something more, to not undress Dean and take from him, to do the things that were coming to him, flashing through his mind unbidden. 

His teeth ached, blood pounded in his temples, he wanted more, more of Dean, more of his blood, he wanted... wanted too fucking much so badly... Sam groaned deep in his throat, as his arms tightened around Dean, holding him close. "I'm here, baby. Shshsh, so sorry. I got ya." Sam dropped a kiss onto the side of Dean's head as a passionate whine left his lips.

* * *

Hours later Dean woke, disoriented. "Sam?" The scent of chocolate chip cookies reassured him. He dropped a kiss on Sam's collar bone, and smiled. "So tired. We really went at it." The haze was lifting from his eyes and reality was slowly sinking in. "Wish you could have been there, I mean for real."

Sam gave a tight smile, a mere slight lifting of the corners of his mouth, "I had my own demons to battle back here in reality, thanks." he looked away. "I don't think it's like that for everyone." He looked back at Dean, "I mean, the pleasure you feel... with me after my bite. When I killed those doctors, I know it wasn't... there were no moans or sounds of pleasure, only screams. I think you're different."

Dean stiffened. "And what about your cream of mint bondage boy?" Dammit, did Sam have to remind him already?

Sam sighed, shrugging a shoulder, "Like I know? I didn't hang around and interview the idiot," he huffed, "I split. Ran like hell. I shoved him away and ran."

"Huh." Okay, whether he believed Sam or not, he'd promised to forgive. This was Dean forgiving him. "You're in so much trouble Sam." Pulling out of his embrace, he sat straight. "That tree you broke? It's hundreds of years old and protected."

Sam sighed and rolled his eyes, "What are they gonna do? Kill me?" he huffed, "Let them try. Arrest me? They have to catch me first. So, again, _why_ exactly am I suppose to be worried?" he quirked a brow.

Dean shrugged. "If its me they grab, guess you can visit me in jail. Or better yet, be my jail mate. We could have sex all night and when we're bored during the day... more sex." Stretching, he leaned over and kissed Sam. "Did I mention you gave me a work out. Hungry. Gonna go down and find something to eat."

Sam eyed Dean, shaking his head, "Food is really disgusting, you know? And the stuff you eat is likely bad for you. You should let me take you out somewhere. Someplace nice." he sighed, "I think I'll call Alice on her cell."

"Don't knock it till you've tried it," Dean padded down the stairs. Looked like Sam had taken his boots off for him. Once he reached the kitchen, he looked in the fridge. There was half a pastrami sandwich from the day before, or he could make cereal. Nah, reaching for the sandwich, he nuked it and headed back upstairs.

Sam's eyes met Dean as he walked into the room. "Eating." Sam said into his cell to Alice. He had already told her about having had sex with Dean, about drinking from Dean during during sex. He'd gone on to tell her about the fight, the guy at the club and then Dean's demand that he drink from him. She had asked what Dean was doing now, and that simple word was her answer.

Open mouthed, Dean stared at Sam. They'd just talked about this, hadn't they? "TMI," he pointedly said, glaring at Sam but getting no reaction.

"It's all he does. Screw and eat... I think he'd be happiest if I turned into a sandwich, then he could screw and eat at the same time." Sam grumbled, watching Dean eat.

Since the worst of the over-sharing was done, Dean sat on the bed and spoke around a big mouthful of his sandwich. "I'd be happiest if half of you turned into a sandwich, extra onions, and the other half was pie. Mmm," he licked his lips for good measure and leered. He'd just had sex for hours on end and nothing was gonna ruin his mood.

Sam frowned, "He thinks I'm in trouble for knocking over a tree."

Dean nodded. "Big time."

He shrugged at what Alice asked him and answered, "I was pissed, it was there."

Rolling his eyes, Dean took another bite.

"I dunno, he says it's protected." Sam told her then chuckled, "Yeah, that's what I told him. Like to see anyone try. Of course, that might be. I haven't eluded anyone in a long time." Sam told her thoughtfully.

As if Dean planned to allow anyone to even get close to Sam. He already had a story for the authorities, and all he needed was for Sam to either hide or keep his mouth shut. Lying was not a skill he'd picked up.

He chuckled, to what she said as he eyed Dean, "Nah, I don't think he's into that. Besides, the way it would end wouldn't be good for me out in the open. What if a hunter showed up?" he laughed again, "Well, Emmett's an idiot." 

"Into what?" Using his thumb, Dean stroked the last remnants of mayo and mustard off his lips, then licked his finger. "Well?"

Sam made a disgusted sound and rolled his eyes, "He's licking that white stuff and that yellow stuff off his fingers. Blah." he chuckled, "Hold on, he wants to know about the woods idea." 

Sam moved the cell slightly away from his mouth, "Alice said _you_ could hunt me, but I told her that probably wouldn't be a good idea," he told Dean then moved the phone back, "I'm back." he told Alice.

"Hunt you? For what?" Eyebrows raised, he added, "is that a vampire in-joke or something?"

Sam rolled his eyes, "hold on again, Alice." he moved the cell, "I mentioned your worry that I was in trouble about the tree," he shrugged, "I was telling her it might be fun to elude someone again, I haven't done that in a long time. She suggested I let you hunt me." Sam grinned, "But I told her the way it would end probably wouldn't go well for me. If a hunter showed up and I was all vamped out, as you," Sam paused and licked his lips, "took your prize, or I took mine." He grinned wider, waggled his brows, "I think there'd be a hell of a lot of explaining to do."

"I'll hunt you, but you better be ready to give it up when I catch you. Now that's incentive," Dean said, a slow smile spreading over his face. No one was taking his prize, he thought he'd made that clear early this morning. 

Sam rolled his eyes and spoke back into the cell, "He thinks that because sex is involved I wouldn't do my best to evade him. He seems to think I'm suppose to just give up." He laughed at her words, "That’s what I thought!"

Dean made a face. "You have no faith in me. And stop talking about me like I'm not here." He didn't know whether he should ask what Alice said or not, the answer might irritate him. Nope, nothing would irritate him today, he was in too good a mood. "Shouldn't she be in class?"

Sam stopped laughing to look at Dean, "She's in the hall." he told Dean, "What? No. Yeah, he wanted to know why you weren't in class. Because this is the hundredth time you've went through high school." He nodded, "I know," Sam looked at Dean and frowned, "I don't think he understands just how old we are. No! I am not going to call him Sonny! You are a sick woman!" he laughed. 

"Better not, or I'll remind you of who _was_ a hundred year old virgin." Smirking, Dean pushed off the bed and walked to Sam, putting an arm around him, he kissed his throat, then the corner of his mouth. "It's time to say goodbye. I finished eating, so its back to screwing now." 

Sam's eyes strayed to Dean as he listened to Alice, "Yeah, I need to go, Dean's done eating, so... Yeah, I'll be sure to tell Dad about drinking from Dean and...uh, the other stuff. Yeah, I know. I'll call him later. Okay. Love you too. Bye." Sam hung up the cell. "Remind me I have to call my dad later and tell him what happened here," Sam shrugged, "He'd want to know."

"You told Alice... that means you already told the whole damned world." Dean griped. "You're lucky I'm in a great mood, or else I'd remind you about how some facts are private. How come you don't know that concept?"

Sam frowned, "Alice isn't the whole world and who's she gonna tell? Jasper probably," he thought about it, "Rosalie maybe, of course, she'd tell Emmett, if Jasper didn't tell him first... Still, not the whole world. But, they're my family, you think I'm gonna get laid and not tell them!?" Sam huffed, "the only reason I didn't reach for the phone right after was because you hurt my feelings."

"Oh for God's sake--"

Sam moved to wrap his arms around Dean, "In a couple days Emmett is going on a hunt and I think I'll go with him." He looked at Dean, bit his lip, "It'll be three days, but I think it'll be good."

"Alright." Dean nodded. "And here I thought I was the hunter in the family. What are you gonna hunt?" Leaning into Sam, he looked up. He knew Sam liked fresh kills and the more intense hunting he got on his little trips and didn’t mind. In fact, this time, it would be real convenient for Dean.

Sam quirked a brow, "You know what we hunt. Deer," he shrugged, "It's a lot better then the rabbits and squirrels I used to catch when I was young, well... a young vampire. More blood too. You don't need as many to get full." He frowned, "Man, I was as naive about that as I was about sex! I need to get out more..."

Dean gave him a look. "Just don't get yourself in trouble with all this 'getting out more' business. Now, weren't you saying something about taking me out? We've already missed school so...." Grinning, he started to think about ways they could get into some trouble together.

Sam frowned, "Not _that_ kind of 'out more'." He sighed, but perked up at the thought of taking Dean out, there was this little cafe he'd seen and wondered if Dean would like their food, the area was really nice with a back patio over looking the water and... his thoughts stopped abruptly, "I'm not gonna like this, 'taking you out', am I?" Sam sighed and hung his head in surrender.

Chuckling, Dean pulled him closer and kissed him. "Trust me... I'll make you like it."

* * *

A few days later, Sam took off with Emmett. Before he left, Dean had to suffer through a long lecture about not doing anything dangerous or calling him before he decided to go off on any hunts, and keeping away from fun bar fights. He dutifully shook his head 'yes' but was already planning something that would give Sam a heart attack, if he could get one. Dean wasn't too thrilled about it either, but sometimes you had to do what you had to do to keep people you loved safe.

School sucked as usual. Dean couldn't wait for the day to be over. At lunch time, instead of sitting with friends since Sam wasn't around, he sat in the passenger seat of his car, researching on Sam's lap top. It was equipped with an internal modem and was quickly becoming Dean's favorite item to borrow.

Alice had seen Dean walk out to his car and needed to talk to him, she'd had a vision, one that had disturbed her greatly. She'd talked to Jasper about it and he'd soothed her somewhat, but she couldn't let this one go. Dean was in danger and thus, so was Sam. She'd be damned if she was going to sit by and let something hurt Sam. 

Walking out to Dean's car, she stood near the door, watching him silently for a moment before she spoke, "Dean, we need to talk. Now." Her voice was soft, but stern, leaving no room for the teen to argue with her.

Dean looked up, gave a little sigh and nodded for her to get in the drivers seat. As she walked around, he leaned over and opened it, then straightened. "Don't tell me... Sam asked you to check up on me." He was pretty sure that had happened. From the little things Sam said, the things he knew about what Dean had been up to even when Sam was in Canada, told Dean that Sam had his family keep an eye on him when he was gone. 

Alice gave a small smile and sighed, "Well, that's not the point," she told him evading the question. Reaching over, she grabbed his hand, pulling it to get his attention. Golden eyes intent on green, she spoke. "I had a vision.... about you." She licked her lips, glancing down at his hand in hers before she looked back up at him, "and it wasn't a very good one. I'm thinking of telling Sam, but I'm afraid to. I don't want anything to happen to him either." Turning slightly, she reached into her pocket and drew out a folded piece of paper, handing it to Dean. "I drew this last night when I had the vision. Anything in it look familiar?"

The irritated and skeptical look he shot her melted away the instant he saw the picture she'd drawn. It looked like he was face down on the ground with someone's heavy boot on the back of his neck. It was unclear to him whether he was supposed to be dead, but the figure of himself sure looked relaxed. Then there were a lot of legs, like people dancing or walking around him as if nothing was wrong. He could tell from the type of clothes they were wearing that it was at the vampire club he was planning on sneaking into tonight.

After taking in every detail and making certain that he'd do everything to prevent this from happening, he passed it back to her. "Thanks for the warning. Don't tell him anything or he _will_ be in danger." He met her gaze.

Alice tore her gaze from his to look down at the picture before looking back at him, "What does it mean, Dean? I saw another vampire drink from you. I saw him change you." She shook her head, "It would kill Sam. I don't know if I can keep this from him. He would hate me forever if I knew this and never told him... if something happened to you..."

He hesitated. He wasn't one to share, though Sam was an exception or maybe Sam was teaching him different, that could be. "You swear if I tell you something, you'll keep it to yourself? None of that Cullen info-sharing?" 

Alice nodded, "I can keep a secret, Dean. The things we share aren't secrets. Please, tell me. I'm worried... about both of you."

Dean nodded. "He thinks I've stopped looking for those bastards who had him. I haven't." His gaze swept over her face and seeing no reaction, continued. "If I don't get them, they won't stop. Not ever. They'll catch him again, if not this decade, maybe the next... but it'll happen. I won't let it." His eyes were as hard as flint.

Alice licked her lips, as she shifted in her seat, "Dean," she quirked a perfect brow at him, "He has all of us to protect him, we aren't going to let what happened before happen again. We're indestructible, and we're immortal. You however," she sighed, "you break so easily..."

"You're not gonna let it happen? You have your eye on him every second, Alice? You know you don't. They want him, they've wanted him for a hundred years, nothing's gonna change that except them, six feet under, where I'm gonna put them." He shut the computer off and snapped the lid shut. "If you wanna help, then don't tell _him_. Minute he sticks his nose in it, he's gonna make a big target of himself because he's who they want. They don't know me from Adam." He hoped he got his point across, because the worst possible scenario would be for Sam to try to handle this.

"I'm going to a club tonight. It’s one where vampires take humans." He saw the disbelief in her eyes. "Mostly another kind of vampire, but I watched from outside once, and there were a couple of your kind too. The club's got a lot of equipment, made of the same metal that can hold Sam... that's not for nothing, Alice." He licked his lower lip. "I need to get to the office, see if there's anything that ties the club to this guy I suspect is the leader of the whole organ stealing thing. You wanna..." he cocked his head to the side, "come as my date?"

Alice eyed him for a long moment before slowly nodding, "I'll go with you... to protect you. If I can't tell Sam, then I need to make certain that nothing bad happens to you. For all our sakes."

"Right... my bodyguard." As bitter a pill as it was, it was true, so he was gonna lump it. "Wear leather and lace," he winked at her. "And no fucking dog leashes." He'd seen humans going into the club on leads, and he had no intention of being one of them. "Pick you up at eight? It's a long drive."

Alice nodded, then turned to reach for the door handle and paused, "Oh, Dean?" she looked back. "Make certain that you wash well before Sam comes back after being with me." With that she exited the car and walked back toward the cafeteria.

He sniffed himself. What, did she think he didn't wash? He washed all the time, especially now that Sam was around to get him _dirty_. Grinning, he got out of the car and headed for class. 

* * *

The club was dark, giving the vampires a big advantage over their human companions... as if they needed one. As much skin as Alice was showing, there were others who barely had any clothes on. Some of them humans, some vamps, all here for sexing and from what Dean could see, they were taking blood too. It looked like the humans were here voluntarily. Some were treated as equals by their vampire lovers, others were on leashes but seemed to be enjoying it. Go figure. Right, he had a boyfriend who liked bondage, so he couldn't judge. Knowing Sam would be appalled by the thought, he chuckled under his breath.

He'd been about to put his arm around Alice and pat her hip, like she was his date when she beat him to it and got her arm around him, patting his ass. He cleared his throat. Right... she was the vamp. "Get you a drink, babe?"

She quirked a brow at him, her rose bud pink lips curling into a small smile, "What I drink is right here." She flirted back, loud enough to be sure that a few who mingled nearby could hear.

Vamp humor, ha ha. He gave what he hoped was a nervous laugh as they headed to the bar and he ordered a beer. No need to be on edge just because half the people in here would probably love to suck him dry. No need for itchy fingers just because he wanted to stake most of them. 

Alice watched him, lips pressed together before she moved to stand behind him, pressing her body against his as she rubbed his shoulders, leaning her head down, her lips near his ear, "You keep looking like that and they are going to know that you aren't here for sex and fun. Try not to think about it."

Great... now a vampire was telling a hunter how to con the prey. Okay, so maybe she had a point. Turning his head slightly, he asked, "you into cuffs and things too? Curious." To anyone watching, it would look like they were about to kiss. "I'm serious."

Alice quirked a brow, "Not particularly no. However since Sam's... obsession with you, I've come to _appreciate_ the idea. Though I'd rather he wasn't so into cuffs and rope," she cleared her throat, as she pulled her head back slowly, golden eyes scanning the bar, catching a few looks tossed their way, some of interest, others hostile, before she leaned in again, "How long do you want to mingle before you do what you need to?"

He knew she meant that Sam's needs affected Jasper, which meant she was on the other side of those cuffs and ropes. "Anxious to see the machinery?" Smirking, he pushed away from the bar, bottle still in hand. "Let's see what they got back there."

As they walked through the throng of dancing bodies, some doing a helluvalot more than dancing, someone hooked an arm around his waist and tried to pull him. Clamping down on the stream of curses and fighting like hell against the urge to punch the guy's lights out, Dean stood stock still. What the fuck? Did hanging around Sam suddenly make him attractive to guys?

Alice's gaze snapped to the guy with his grimy mitts on Dean, a snarl sounding in her throat, before she stepped between them, eyes blazing. Grabbing the lesser vampire by the throat, Alice raced him backward, his back slamming into the wall, as she reached for the offending arm with her other hand, turning it with her grasp. There was an audible snap and crack as bones broke and shattered. "Touch what belongs to me again, and I will end you." she growled out through gritted teeth, fangs showing.

The crowd had stilled for only a moment before resuming with their previous activities, apparently such behavior was not out of the norm.

Alice slowly released the vampire before her, stepping back to Dean's side and wrapping an arm around his waist, "Let's go, baby," she muttered to Dean, her slightly darkened golden eyes intent on the vampire.

Holy... Yeah he'd seen Sam go batshit when he was in protective mode, but Alice... despite everything Sam had told him, Dean had trouble believing the slender girl, woman, was a force to be reckoned with. Sure she was strong, he'd seen her in action when the Cullens played football, but strength did not equate to balls, and she had a brass set.

Nodding meekly, though he wanted to cheer, he walked with her and noticed that she only looked ahead after the offending vampire who she was focused on was no longer in sight. "Remind me never to get on your bad side."

They walked through several rooms, what people were referring to as 'game rooms.' Dean thought he was pretty hardened and very exposed to porn but some of the shit he was seeing made him blush. They both noted that there was some equipment around that had a bluish glow to it, and a few patrons who were as pale and ethereal as the Cullens. 

Soft moans and groans filled the air as they walked through the rooms and halls leading toward the back of the building, the deeper they went, it seemed the harsher and more wild the toys, activities and 'games rooms' became. More and more they were seeing the equipment with that same bluish glow. 

"I thought there wasn't so much of this stuff around." Alice whispered to Dean, as she shook her head, "Sam's kinks are nothing compared to this, this is just... sick." she wrinkled her delicate nose as she looked up at him.

Dean agreed quickly. "Sam's not into pain. Or public fucking... I hope," he took her hand and walked her into a dark hallway where the restrooms were. They stood there a while, and he jutted his chin toward a door marked 'authorized personnel only.' Without speaking out loud, he mouthed, "anyone in there?"

Alice frowned as she listened over the sounds of sex filling the air around them. After a moment, she shook her head and tapped her ear. She didn't hear anything. No sounds of movement and no heartbeats sounded from within the room. If anyone was in there, they were vampire and not moving.

He nodded toward the door, and tried the handle. It was locked. "Here's your chance to be all over me," he grinned, dropping half way down on his knees to pick the lock. She was a quick study, if anything, he felt her over his back making all sorts of kissing sounds as she covered his actions. "If it weren't for Sam, Alice baby, I might take you up... ah... remember, only human here, no hitting."

Alice quirked a brow, and would have stopped mid-kissing noises if it weren't so important that she keep going. Instead she reached down and pinched Dean's ass, hard. If she couldn't hit him or say something snappy back, she'd opt for the next best thing.

Grinning, he mentally vowed to tell Sam that detail sometime when all this could come out in the open. 

Later, after he'd worked hard at the door and they were done and out of there, Alice would mention how she would have been able to easily of break the lock for him. A satisfied smirk pulled at her lips at the idea of that.

Looking back over his shoulder and checking the hall, Dean slowly pushed the door open and slipped inside. He left Alice out there to deal with anyone that tried to come in, though he knew if she was half as stubborn as Sam, she'd be right there with him. He looked around the office and didn't immediately see anything too strange. Then he quickly and efficiently started going through drawers, searching for any connections to Zacharia Medical Lines, Inc. Invoice, business letters, junk, ledgers, junk... He went through shelves, and looked under them, and finally found a business card from the corporation. Behind it was an address. He pocketed the card and kept looking until he heard a warning scratch on the door.

Standing in the hall was not Alice's idea of a good time, but she wasn't about to pretend that she knew just what exactly he was looking for. Dean was the hunter, not her, at least not of this kind of prey. For a long time, things seemed to be going rather well for them with no one venturing past the last 'game room', but then three men in suits started down her way along with a vampire in dark clothes and matching trenchcoat. 

Straightening everything, he slipped back out only to find himself slammed back against the door by Alice. "Whoa... baby," immediately he knew that someone was coming and they really had no business at this end of the hall so they'd better be creating some business. Without any hesitation, he stroked her bare back, and used other hand to lift her leg around his hip, melding their bodies together. "Don't bite," he mouthed, before bringing his mouth over Alice's and hoping like hell that his blood was not too attractive to her.

The idea that she would want his blood the way Sam did was almost laughable, however it wasn't out of the question that she might very well want it if she were to smell it, feel it pumping through his veins, if things got too out of control. Alice wrapped her arms around Dean's neck, hands tangling in his hair as she pressed his head closer, his lips crushed to hers, deepening the kiss. She peeked out of one eye, hearing the men draw closer and let out a low moan as she started to move her hips against Dean's, closing her eye again and trying to make this little seduction scene look as real and legit as possible.

Whoa baby, now he knew... all Cullens were handfuls. Dragging her closer, he kissed back, realizing immediately that due to the presence of vampires this had to not only look good, but he needed to be aroused. How many times had Sam told him it was something he could smell? No problem, as long as he pretended she wasn't Sam's sister, which was a bit of a problem. 

Dean slid his hand up her leather skirt, molding her ass closer as he ground his hips against hers. He swept his tongue inside her mouth, tangling it with hers. She tasted good, smelled good... a lure for humans, but even knowing that didn't stop him from reacting. He was growing hard, and hoping like hell that those guys would stop them quick before they had to get much further. Breaking the kiss, he moved his mouth over her throat, and opened his eyes so he could see them approach. They were just standing there, evaluating them. Shit!

Alice tilted her head back, her darkened eyes opening, catching sight of the men watching them. Dammit! Moving her hands, she gripped each side of Dean's head, forcing it back hard against the wall, before leaning in to run her tongue from the hollow of his throat up to his chin and over his lips, a soft moan leaving her as she did. "I think we need to find a room before I fuck you and suck you here in the hall, baby," she told him breathlessly, playing the part.

He nodded, his heart banging against his chest. "Let's go," he squeezed her ass one last time, then let her drag him away from the door. As he staggered toward the men watching them, the bulge in his pants was proof enough it had been the real thing. He felt the weight of their stares, and continued to lean into Alice, pushing her against the wall for one more long kiss so it didn't look like they were getting the hell out of there... and then they did.

Once they were outside and on either side of the Impala, he let out a breath and looked at her over the roof. "A -- we're never gonna talk about that again. B -- if Sam happened to be tuned in, then I'm gonna tell him you came to haul my ass out of a vamp sitch at a club and we had to pretend... and that's it, no details about what I was looking into. Agreed?"

Alice nodded, "Agreed. Now take me to your house so I can get your scent off me before I go home, or we've done all this for nothing, because Jasper will kill you," she told him before tugging open the Impala's door and sliding inside.

As he entered the car, his cell phone started to go off and he could see it was Sam. He groaned. "Great... it's ‘everyone wants to kill Dean’ day.'"

* * *

Sam didn't bother to walk Emmett home, didn't finish the hunt, didn't say anything to him at all other than that he was leaving and disappeared. He couldn't believe Dean. After the fight that they had over his feeding off someone and now Dean had been out with some fucking girl, making out _again_ , not to mention getting damn excited about it. 

He climbed in through the window, leaves clinging to his hair and clothes, dirt smudged his face, and blood splattered his shirt, but he could give a rats ass right now how he looked as inky dark angry eyes sought out Dean.

"Sam?" Hearing the noise, Dean crossed to the other side of the jacuzzi, reached out and pushed the door open. "In here." The lack of an answer was a warning. He tensed slightly. 

Sam walked, jaw tight, muscle twitching as his hands clenched and unclenched into fists at his sides, into the room where he and his family had set up the jacuzzi. He stood in the doorway, glaring down at Dean. "Was she worth it?" he asked through gritted teeth.

Sam's hardened features, dark, angry eyes and the way he was looming over him gave Dean pause. Any joke he may have mustered died on his lips. "There's no she, Sam. Calm down. Give me a chance to explain," he said, forcing himself to meet Sam's eyes. "It's not what you think."

"Lies." The simple word was said with finality. Dark eyes left Dean, darting about the room before returning to him again.   
"I'll have my family get my things." he told him, turning on a heel and walking from the room.

"Wait!" Cursing, Dean climbed out of the jacuzzi, and chased after Sam with an unused towel in one hand and dripping water all over the floor. "Sam!" Reaching him, he grabbed his arm, "I swear it wasn't for real. Listen to me, goddamnit. I know you're angry, but I'm telling you it's not what you think. You can ask Alice if you don't believe me. She was there."

Sam glared at him, "My sister was there, Dean? Really?" he huffed, "I find that hard to believe." He eyed Dean, "Mostly because you're still alive." His lip curled, baring his fangs as his eyes darted to Dean's hand on his arm, "Don't touch me."

Dean didn't release him, though he couldn't deny a slight shiver of fear that slid down his spine. No, this was Sam... Sam wouldn't hurt him, no matter what. "I swear to you Sam, it was Alice. I was kissing Alice, because I had to... well..." It had been a lot easier to explain when he was making the damned explanations in his head and not to a fuming vampire. He took a deep breath. "I was at a club where there were a lot of vampires, snooping around the back office. I almost got caught, but she pretended to be there _with_ me. We had to make it look good, that's ALL. You think I'd make up a crazy story like that? Call her." 

Sam eyed him silently as he reached for his cell, jerking his arm out of Dean's grasp. Sam scrolled down the pre-entered numbers and pressed the one to his house, then the speaker button, listening to it as it rang. 

"Hello?" 

Sam narrowed his eyes at Dean when Rosalie answered, "Get Jasper on the phone, Ros. Now." 

Sam held up a finger to Dean when he opened his mouth. "Don't." Sam told him. 

"Hey, dude, what's up?" Jasper's voice. 

"Jasper, did Alice have the scent of a certain _human_ we know all over her, by chance?"

"Why?" Jasper gave Alice a puzzled look, thinking Dean was probably driving Sam mad again somehow, some way. "Not sure what you mean, Sam."

Dean wrapped the towel around his waist and made a mouth-zipping motion with his hand. One that Sam was deliberately ignoring. "Dammit Sam..."

Sam only narrowed his eyes more, glared harder, "Well, according to Dean, your mate and mine decided it would be fun to play a little shuffle the partners. I take it Alice never told you this?" the corner of Sam's lips quirked into a satisfied smirk, though he wasn't amused, knowing Alice would likely be speaking up any second telling him there was no way she had touched Dean.

"We were not playing 'shuffle anything' Goddammit, we were at a club and this vampire--"

"Club, what club? Did he say he was at a club with Alice?" Jasper looked at her again, and this time he noticed she was looking a bit uncomfortable. "Alice? You didn't go to a club with Sam's human, did you? Alice?"

"Alice?" Sam asked, sounding hurt. _Say no. Say no. Say it wasn't you._

There was a brief silence.

"It's my fault, she was just protecting me," Dean said, hating how that sounded but he wasn't gonna get her into any deeper shit than he already had.

Sam growled low and tossed the cell onto a table, turning on his heel, "I can't believe this shit. I really can't." he shook his head. "After you get pissed at _me_ for doing something that is in my _nature_ , you go off, _after_ I get you to _promise_ me that you'll not do anything stupid, that you'll call me if you go off on a hunt, and you drag my sister into your bullshit!" Sam looked back toward the phone, "Speaking of which, we are not done with this conversation Alice Cullen." He looked back at Dean, "but I'm done talking to you."

"I wasn't hunting. I was... snooping, I wasn't there to hunt." Yeah lame, but it was all he had as he crossed in front of Sam and blocked the way to the window. "I'm sorry I dragged her into it," he nodded, "Sorry Jasper, that was wrong." A muscle pulsed in his jaw. He knew if he told the full truth none of them would blame him or Alice, but he couldn't. Not when he knew that Sam would probably get the rest out of him and then go half cocked right into a trap that was set just for him.

The Cullens hung up, leaving Dean to look up at Sam. "I think you got her in trouble with Jasper, and all she was doing was trying to help me, us." He let out a breath, and put his hand out, reaching for Sam's.

Sam's cold stare moved to Dean's hand before he took a step back, "What Jasper does is nothing compared to what I'm going to do." He turned, walking toward the window, "Lock the window tonight, and ignore the sounds of thunder. It'll just be me beating the hell outta my sister," Sam grumbled climbing out the window.

"Sam... that is not fair," Dean started to climb out after him, cold air steaming off his heated skin. "She didn't do anything that you wouldn't have done, and you damn well know it. What was she supposed to do? Aren't you the one who asked them ... all of them to keep an eye on me? Well _she_ did it, and now you're angry at her. How does that make any sense?"

"It was my place, _mine_." He quirked a brow, "Sound familiar?" Sam huffed and shook his head, "You wouldn't understand, why am I not surprised? Okay, how’s this... _I_ go to a club with your buddy, Jack. And I end up having to make out with him... oh but don't worry, it was to keep him safe. I was just saving his ass. Just ignore my raging _hard on_!" Sam glared at him and huffed, "But at least I didn't bite him, right?"

When he put it like that... hell, he was a quick learner, using his own arguments back at him. Dean shifted his weight from one leg to the other on the narrow ledge and rubbed the back of his neck. "Okay, I get the point. The part about the hard on wasn't supposed to happen but with vampires there... had to be real..." yeah, he was digging his own damned grave with too much details here. "You're right. I'm wrong, I'm sorry."

Sam frowned at him, "Vampires there? Just exactly where were you and why? What were you looking for, Dean? And I know my sister," he made a face, "or I think I do, she wouldn't just go with you to any old club and do this. Something big was going on, so what is it?" he quirked a brow, before turning his head, golden hazel eyes seeming to glow in the low light of dusk. Turning his head back Sam jutted his chin toward the bedroom, "you need to go back inside. Jasper isn't taking this any better than I am."

"Nothing happened. Goddamned vamps," Dean muttered, looking out and seeing nothing, but grabbing the towel around his waist and climbing back inside.

Sam followed Dean back inside, closing and locking the window behind him before he turned around to face Dean. "Well? I'm still waiting for my answers."

"What? Isn't he gonna come in and try to rip out my throat or something?" Dean didn't know what the hell was going on with them right now.

Sam shrugged, "Probably." he crossed his arms over his chest, "I'm waiting."


	20. Chapter 20

"It's nothing Sam. Dead end. I was following a trail, it lead to this club... club happened to have many of 'your people' and mine mixing... imagine that?" He gave Sam a hopeful smile. "Found nothing but a real club, with some more kinky than usual happenings, that's it. Relax now, please?"

Sam quirked a brow, "What trail? And a regular club... with vampires and humans?" he shook his head, "Alice wouldn't go for a joy ride. Try again. And you better hurry, I can hear my brother's footfalls running this way."

"Yeah Sam, a club with vamps and humans. Shocking isn't it? I thought so too." He reached for his jeans and without bothering to get his boxers, pulled them up. "Is he gonna be reasonable? I don't want to have to hurt him." He grabbed a tee shirt.

Sam's lips curved upward, " _You_? Hurt Jasper?" Sam shook his head, "Not possible. And you still haven't told me what trail. If you want me to talk my brother out of ripping your throat out, you need to spill. Now."

"If you want to prevent me from having to shoot him, stop him." Dean was starting to get pissed. He'd apologized ten times already, and it wasn't something he was used to, and he was tired of it. There was nothing more he could tell Sam, other than by creating facts out of thin air, but he didn't really like lying to him. 

Pulling the nightstand drawer open, he took out a handful of blue tinged bullets and met Sam's gaze. "It probably won't kill him, but it will hurt like a sonovabitch."

Sam narrowed his eyes, but didn't bother to remind Dean that he could rip the gun from his hand with his TK before Dean ever got a shot off. "The trail, Dean. That's all I want to know." He leaned back against the wall, head rolling to look out the window. "He's here."

In the next second a loud thud sounded at the window as Jasper jumped up, hands against the glass, fangs bared, eyes an inky black.

"Open it. I don't want it broken again." Dean loaded the gun then stood next to Sam. "I thought maybe the place was a vampire's buffet, alright? I wasn't gonna stop 'em, I wasn't hunting 'em, I just wanted to know what was going on. I went in, saw... and on my way out, some of the guys got suspicious, so Alice helped out by making it look like we were just one of the other couples there. That's it. You gonna help me, help me. If you're not, then go stand on the sidelines and get some popcorn."

Sam reached down with one hand and unlocked the window, eyes on Dean, before he stepped away, using his TK to snatch the gun from Dean's grasp as he did.

 

The window slid up, obviously from Sam's TK and Jasper, leaped inside, tackling Dean to the floor.

 

Sam stood looking down at the two of them casually, "Hey, Jas. How's it goin'?" he grinned, spinning the gun on one finger.

"Sonova... " Dean cursed, trying desperately to push Jasper off. He punched him in the face, "get the fuck off." 

Jasper heard the sounds of Dean's rushing blood, heard his heart pumping... and already he was seeing red, but the painless punch made him grow wilder with anger. Getting up, he picked Dean up and threw him to the far wall at the television, and scrambled toward him, unable to fight his predatory instincts. "I will tear you to shreds."

Gaze intent on the fight, Sam walked nonchalantly and stood beside where Dean who’s been thrown to the ground. "Okay, Jasper. That's enough," he told his brother softly.

"Like hell, it is." Jasper pushed Sam and headed straight for Dean who'd rolled away and was now wielding a useless knife. Eyes dark with uncontrolled anger, he dove at Dean.

Using his leg, Dean shoved a table in front of him, rolling away again while Jasper crashed into it. He was only buying time, unless he could make it down the stairs and grab the chains or Sam gave up the gun. "Sam?" He put his hand out, and when he saw his so called boyfriend refuse to give it to him, he headed for the stairs.

 

Jasper made a dash toward Dean to cut him off and Sam leapt at him, colliding with a loud crashing sound, before rolling on the floor, locked in combat. Sam refused to hit his brother, instead taking every blow Jasper gave, only holding him off, his eyes growing dark in his anger. "Dammit, Jasper! Stop!" Sam grunted out, as they rolled, but Jasper wasn't listening.

 

Teeth snapped at one another, growls leaving them. The window opened and closed on it's own, furniture floating just off the floor, as Sam held back his fury.

Jasper's fangs sank into Sam's shoulder with a low snarl as they rolled, crashing into objects, splintering some, knocking over others.

"Sam!" At the sight of blood, Dean almost dove into the fray but seeing a chair leg get crushed between the two vampires' bodies made him rethink that. He should get the chains, but he couldn't look away, that and the fact that the chains were a bit of a sore topic, even though they'd been put to good uses lately. Across the room, he saw his gun twirling in the air. "Great." 

Dodging the vampires rolling on the ground, he went to grab it out of the air, cocked it and pointed it at Jasper. "Lay off, now."

Sam looked up, teeth clenched to see Dean holding the gun on Jasper. Dammit! What the hell was with these two!?

Sam concentrated on the gun, sending it flying again as he shot Dean a dirty look, just before his attention was drawn back to his brother as he was head butted hard. "Jasper!" Sam gritted out, just before Jasper went flying backward from him, slamming against a wall and staying there, held by Sam's TK.

Shaking his hand, which hurt from the force of the gun having been pulled out of it, Dean crossed the room and stood right in front of the vampire who looked like he was pinned to the wall like a butterfly. "I don't care how many times you've gone through school, but you need to go to anger management 101. What the hell? I told you I was sorry I got her involved, but you know dude... she's got a mind of her own. And she can protect herself. You're taking this way too far."

Jasper glared at Dean through dark eyes, "You put her in danger. MINE!"

 

Sam had pulled up off the floor and walked over to stand before his brother, "Yeah, he did, and he fucked up. It's why I let you pull the first punch, but I told you it was done. MINE!"

Dean looked between them. God... had he sounded like such a Neanderthal when he'd shouted the same thing about Sam having taken someone else's blood? He just quietly moved closer to Sam, but his eyes still dared Jasper to try anything.

Jasper met Sam's eyes, and finally nodded.

At Jasper's nod, Sam released him and Jasper gracefully landed on his feet. "I don't disagree with you, but I won't let you hurt him either." Sam told him as Jasper moved to walk past.

 

Sam glanced at Dean, "We need to talk about your ideas of vampire control. He is still my brother and if you would have shot him," Sam shook his head, "all bets would be off."

"So what, I'm supposed to stand there and take it? Not happening, you should know that," he tossed back, glaring at Jasper's back as the vampire finally leaped out the window. Once again... the room was a mess, damned vampires...

Sam frowned at Dean, "I had it under control. I wouldn't let anything happen to you. When are you going to trust me?"

Dean pointed at him. "You were just as angry as he was. You left me defenseless. Trust you," he muttered, striding across the room and picking his gun up off the floor. He glared at Sam as he emptied it of bullets. 

 

"You had _me_. Far from defenseless. And that gun," he nodded to it, "Jasper would have been so angry he would have killed you, I wouldn't have been able to stop him. Jasper is new to our way of life... he isn't good at controlling his hunger all the time."

"Almost ate you," Dean pointed out dryly, staring at the hole in the back of his shirt. He sat heavily down and dropped both the bullets and gun into the nightstand. "And I'd be surprised if he didn't crack the t.v." That was what made him really sad, everything else that had been wrecked, he could deal with.

Sam looked toward the television, and shrugged, "I'll buy you a new one. A bigger one," he looked back at Dean. "IF you keep your tongue out of my sister's mouth and your ass out of vampire and human clubs," he gave him a pointed look before reaching down and pulling his tee up and over his head, tossing it onto the floor. 

 

Sam tried to look over his shoulder at the bite, "Is it really bad? It's healing already, right?" he mumbled to Dean, quirking a brow. It wasn't the first time he'd been bitten by one of his brothers in a fight and it likely wouldn't be the last.

Slightly tensing when Sam brought up where his tongue had been, he relaxed when the moment passed. Looking at Sam's shoulder, he shook his head. "It's healed, but you're a bleeder. I thought--" He clamped his mouth shut. "You've got..." he pointed at Sam's head, "leaves in your hair. Catch anything?"

Sam frowned at Dean as he reached up and pulled leaves from his hair, "You thought what? Yeah, we got a few. I left Emmett feeding on my last kill," he shrugged, "Sometimes it's the thrill of the hunt that's better than actually feeding." He hung his head, "Dad says I get that from what happened to me. Says I was never like that before," he shook his head, "I don't remember."

Dean lifted his brows at Sam's tone, then got off the bed and put his arms around his waist. "Nothing wrong with that, Sam. Thrill of the hunt is the best high, I get that. Everyday." He nodded. "Now... you gonna kiss me, or am I gonna have to hunt your ass down? It's been three days..."

Sam smirked, "Hunt me down? That would be the longest hunt of your life," he shook his head, "you'd never catch me, so I better just kiss you I guess." He leaned in, slanting his mouth over Dean's, tongue darting in to run the tip of his tongue teasingly across the roof of Dean's mouth.

Groaning softly, Dean moved his hands down over Sam's ass, pulling him closer as he tangled his tongue with Sam's. This was a much better homecoming. Much much better. "Tonight's excitement... it get you horny at all?" he asked, pressing his hip into Sam's groin and hoping. 

Sam grinned against Dean's lips, "Wrestling always gets me horny." He chuckled at the look on Dean's face and shrugged, "You asked."

"But you wrestled with you brother." Dean pushed Sam away. "We're gonna have to start over here."

Sam laughed, "He's not my _real_ brother, and I thought about _you_ anyway..." he quirked a brow, "We really getting into a conversation about what makes us hard? Cause I got this sister..." Sam let his sentence trail off, though he gave Dean a pointed look.

Dean groaned. "You know I can get hard just watching someone crossing the road, it's not the... let's drop it," he suddenly nodded, his agreement. 

Sam nodded, "Probably a good idea." He moved to sit down on the bed, "So, vampire movie?" he asked, reaching for the remote and clicking on the television.

"Your brother broke it," Dean pointed out. "How about we trigger a vampy moment, hmm?" He got on the bed, on his knees behind Sam, massaging his shoulders as he kissed his temple. "You're supposed to relax, not tense," he chuckled, leaning in and letting Sam feel his erection develop against his back.

Sam remained tense, "And if I relax you get to have a night of dreams while I sit here and do what? Masturbate on you?" he huffed, turning to look at Dean, then freezing at the look on Dean's face, "I was kidding!"

"Damn." Disappointed, Dean moved his hips back and forth, getting a good rhythm. "You sure?"

Sam moaned softly, "Sure? 'bout?" he asked, not able to follow logic as his teeth started to ache and the blood pounded in his temples. "Mm... maybe not... maybe. Dunno."

He slid his hands down Sam's chest, loving how the muscles tightened and twitched under his touch, especially when he moved lower to his abs. "Just thinking about it is making me damned hard, you feel it?" he asked near Sam's ear, pressing his straining arousal against his lover. It was sheer torture, the best kind. As his breathing became labored, Dean came up with another idea. "Think you can do this? Get off on my back or stomach?" he asked thickly, wondering how it would feel. 

Sam closed his eyes a moan leaving him, "God..." he breathed, licked his lips, "I - I, yeah, I think so. I don't want to hurt you. Excited, what if I can't stop?" His hand moved, digits curling into fists where they rested against the mattress. Sam swallowed hard, "Want you so bad."

"Then I'll slide into the best dream ever, that's what." Course that was a best case scenario with Sam only taking blood and not all of it, but once the idea of Sam masturbating against him had been planted in his head, that was all Dean could focus on. Still leaning firmly against Sam, he stretched and grabbed two leather wrist bands from the drawer. When he had them on and brought his hands over Sam's shoulders in front of Sam’s face, wrists together so it looked just like he was tied up. He kept fucking against Sam, not saying much, but sensing his lover's rising lust.

Sam's eyes locked on the leather bands on Dean's wrists, a sharp gasp leaving him. His cock twitched and pulsed in his jeans, aching, straining. The blood pounded hard in Sam's temples, his teeth aching. Sam groan/growled as he tilted his head back, looking down at the 'cuffs' from under lowered lids. "Dean..."

"Yeah baby, anything you want. Where do you wanna fuck me? Tell me, I'll make it happen." Seeing the outline of Sam's burgeoning dick had him sucking his breath in. "You're so fucking hard, let me help you with it," he kept grinding his cock against Sam’s back, getting the relief he needed.

"Oh God..." Sam groaned out the words as he turned, pushing Dean back against the bed. "Want you tied down, want to feel you, want to taste you, want to own you, possess you... " Sam groaned, lowering himself down onto Dean, and dipped his head to place soft kisses along his neck.

Dean curled his fingers around the railing of the headboard, forcing his wrists together to keep the illusion of being tied up. Lifting his face, he let Sam torture him with heated kisses, groaning when he tried to make their mouths meet but Sam escaped. "Take your pants off, I wanna feel you so bad."

Sam quickly pulled up, moved probably faster then Dean's human eyes could see him, could follow him and returned to his previous position, naked. Grinding against Dean, Sam groaned. "Fast enough for you?" Sam murmured, moaning, breath hissing out between clenched teeth, "Need you outta these jeans. Now." Sam pulled back, unfastening the button and zipper, all but tearing the fabric as he peeled it off Dean in his haste before he laid back down on Dean, grinding his hips against him, a low groan tearing from his throat.

Lifting his hips, Dean echoed the sounds Sam made. As waves of heat crashed over Dean, he wanted to put his arms around Sam, pull him impossibly closer. Instead, he kept up the pretense of being tied... it was a small price to pay for this, for having Sam on top of him, for being skin to skin with him, grinding against him with as much pressure as he could get. He couldn't believe how quickly Sam had agreed to this, or how quickly he'd gotten them naked... usually it took a lot more persuasion, and he'd demand the chains before they got this far. 

 

"Oh God Sam, you feel so good," Dean wrapped one leg around Sam's, biting his lower lip as their cocks came together hard. "Baby, please don't stop... keep going." A part of him knew that too soon, Sam would move up his body and masturbate against his stomach. Another part of him couldn't wait for that new experience. 

Sam thrust against Dean, his hands moving over his flesh, up his side and down as he braced his weight on his opposite forearm against the mattress. Gripping Dean's hip, Sam pulled Dean upward, crashing their pelvis' together roughly, fingertips biting into tender flesh hard enough to bruise before running back up his side.

 

His mouth devoured, first Dean's lips, then his throat, his shoulders, always coming back to the pulse point at Dean's neck, his tongue running over the artery as Sam's teeth ached stronger, sweeter with each passing moment, the blood pounding in his temples and that damn Siren's song from Dean's blood filling his ears. "Oh God... want more... more..." Sam panted out the words, small moans and grunts leaving him as he ground their hips together in abandon. All thought about how easily humans break, gone from his mind, all that was there was the incredible lust and bloodlust mixing and mingling together, causing Sam to nearly tremble with its intensity.

Each time Sam's mouth insistently went back to his throat, Dean's pulse jumped to attention. It took every last shred of control for Dean to prevent himself from arching up and rubbing his throat against Sam's mouth, from demanding he 'do it.' He was so lost in the sensations, the heat coursing through his body and sinking deep in his belly, it was a while before his mind registered pain. "Sam... Sam... slower, gentler," he said, biting his lip as Sam threatened to pulverize him with the strength with which he ground against him. "Sam! Please..." 

"Hmm?" Sam shook his head, "More," he breathed the word, before slanting his mouth over Dean's, sharp fangs scratching against sensitive tender flesh of Dean's mouth, his lips, his tongue. All the while Sam continued his relentless pace against Dean's body. His arching need, hunger and bloodlust driving him beyond rational thought.

Dean's hand slipped off the railing as survival instincts kicked in. "No. Stop... slow down!" he shouted, trying to roll Sam over even as blinding heat mixed with pain each time Sam fucked against him. "Sam? Sam?" He gripped Sam's chin, and forced him to look at him, really look in his eyes. "Hurting. Stop." He let out a few heated breaths, and repeated himself.

Sam's dark eyes looked down into green, his lip curled, revealing his fangs, a low snarl sounding deep in his throat before his gaze shot to Dean's neck, the pulse point there and back. Hands clenched and unclenched as Sam tried to make the words sink in, make himself stop, calm down. Sam lowered his head to Dean's neck, his tongue darting out to lick across the artery just before his fangs pierced tender skin. He didn't mean to do it, it was as if the flood gates had opened and this was the resulting tsunami that would not be denied. 

Dean hadn't expected the burning pain from the bite, but it was over instantly and he was pulled into another world as Sam drank from him. Groans of ecstasy broke from Dean even as he quickly lost the ability to insist Sam slow down, or to fight him, or to even know that Sam was crushing him, punishing his body with his incredible strength. Minutes felt like hours as in his mind’s eye, he saw and felt Sam slip up his body, thrusting his hard arousal against Dean's abs and chest, working himself up. Dean smiled, "yes... that's it Sam... yes..."

From outside the house, Emmett, who'd been sent by Carlisle to check on Sam, heard Dean's pleas that Sam stop. Those were followed by sounds of pleasure, so he hesitated. Then he thought 'fuck it,' the worst that would happen is that he'd have teasing material for the two of them. One leap, and he was on the window ledge, looking in. 

The first thing that hit him was the almost overpowering scent of blood. He knew by now that Sam had taken Dean's blood and successfully stopped, but watching him lap at Dean now, seeing Sam's naked body moving carelessly, with no apparent attempt at gentleness, Emmett knew Sam had lost his control. "Sam, stop."

He dropped into the room and strode toward the bed, "You're going to kill him."

Sam wasn't listening, he was taking, finally, at long last he was taking, exactly the way he wanted, without holding back, without stopping, without thought, just taking from Dean. Body and blood, finishing whenever they both wore out, and not caring what order it happened in.

 

Emmett growled low, "Sam! Dammit!" he reached the bed, grabbing Sam around the waist to pull him off, only Sam clung, refusing to let go. 

 

"Goddammit! You're gonna fuckin' kill him, Sam! Samuel!" Emmett yelled at him, taking a step back to get a running leap, before tacking his brother off, they both crashed to the floor, Emmett holding Sam down as he growled and struggled to get back to his prey, baring his fangs at his brother mindlessly, eyes dark as damnation. 

 

"Sam, stop. Calm down. It's me, it's Emmett."

 

Sam looked up at his brother, slowly relaxing against the floor, as he fought to reach the surface, to reach through the haze of lust and bloodlust clouding his brain. Emmett continued to hold him tightly down as he waited for Sam to snap out of it. "Emmett?" Sam voice was strained, nearly weak, and very confused.

 

"Yeah, that's me." Emmett huffed, glancing toward the bed before looking back at Sam again, "If you didn't want him anymore, could you at least have not let me find you two like this? Ros is going to be _so_ upset."

 

Sam frowned even more in confusion.

 

Emmett shrugged a shoulder, "Oh, this has ruined sex for me for like...EVER."

Dean arched off the mattress, completely oblivious of the rivulets of blood running down from his throat to his chest. He groaned, "almost there Sam.... almost there."

Sam's attention snapped to Dean on the bed, eyes widening slightly before he narrowed them looking back at Emmett, "What did you do to Dean!?!"

 

Emmett pulled off his brother, "Me!? I didn't do a damn thing to him, save his life maybe. Save him from his blood crazed boyfriend." Emmett glared back, watching as Sam pulled up from the floor.

 

Emmett walked to the bed, not breathing, so he wouldn't be effected by the blood still oozing from the wounds in Dean's neck. "You fucked him up good, dude. What the hell were you two thinkin'?" Emmett shook his head. "Wait until I tell Dad."

 

Sam was standing, looking down at Dean with a pained expression, his dead heart aching. _What had he done? Oh God..._ Emmett's comment about their father had his head snapping up, his gaze locking with Emmett's. "Dad?"

 

Emmett nodded, "Who do you think sent me here? I came home early. No fun hunting alone. Dad sent me up to check on you..." he looked back at Dean and shook his head, "good thing he did too," he looked at Sam, "or you'd be burying your boyfriend later tonight." With that he turned toward the window, "Dad will likely be by, so, uh, put some clothes on huh? No need for Mom to suffer along with Ros." He gave a visible shudder and jumped out the window.

Dean's hands kneaded the bedsheets as his eyes rolled back. He muttered Sam's name and more words of encouragement, lost in a happy place. 

Biting his lip, Sam tore his gaze from the now empty window and looked down at Dean, moving to sit on the bedside next to him, pulling Dean into his arms. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Why? Why did you let me? Why didn't you stop me?" he spoke softly even though he knew Dean couldn't hear him.

 

Sam nuzzled against Dean's neck, blood smearing on the side of Sam's face, but he didn't care, didn't even acknowledge it, as tears stung his eyes.

 

Pulling back, Sam sniffled and looked around the room, finding the gun and special blue glowing bullets on the night stand he repositioned Dean in his arms and reached for a bullet. Turning it over in his hand, he found a spot that looked sharp enough and pulled his other hand free, laying Dean in his lap. Using his strength, Sam used the back edge of the bullet to slice a deep gash in his forearm, before setting it down and pressing the wound to Dean's neck as he picked him back up, cradling Dean against him. He didn't know what else to do, didn't know how to fix what he had done, but Sam knew how to heal.

Long minutes later, Carlisle came through the window. At the sight of his son's face blotched with tear stained blood as he held onto his human lover made Carlisle pause. He could hear the faint heartbeat, which told him Dean was alive. 

Crossing the room, he started to pull Dean out of Sam's arms. "Sam, let him go," he said gently, but firmly.

Sam's eyes met those of his father as a tear ran down his cheek, "But..." Sam relented, releasing his hold on Dean and moving away. He moved across the room, pulling on sweatpants as his dad looked at Dean. Sam hung his head biting his lip. Nothing he could say would make it right, nothing he could do would fix it. "Is he..." Sam paused, crossing his arms nervously over his chest, "is he gonna be okay?"

Carlisle ran his palm over Dean's forehead and cheek, noting he was cool to the touch. He opened Dean's eyes, and checked his unseeing pupils. "Get dressed. We need to get him to the hospital for a transfusion." Checking the wound on Dean's throat, he told Sam to get him a wet towel, and clean himself up as well.

Then he started to check Dean's body, noting the strange angle of his arm and the bruises on his body. As his son went to do as he asked, Carlisle picked up Dean's clothes from the ground and started to dress him.

Sam wordlessly went to get the towel his father had asked for, bringing it back quickly. Leaden feet carried him back into the bathroom where he cleaned up quickly, dressing in the clothes he had grabbed up off the floor when he had walked in.

 

 _Transfusion._ Dean needed a transfusion. He had taken too much. Too much. He'd been out of control and taken far too much blood. What if something happened? What if Dean didn't get better? What if he hated him for it? Emmett and his own father weren't very happy with him, not that he could blame them. Oh God, what if Dean hated him now? _'My father would be rolling in his grave if he knew about us.'_ Ttears spilled down his cheeks as he walked out of the bathroom. Maybe Dean's father would be right... monsters and humans shouldn't mix...

"Sam, get a hold of yourself. This isn't the time," Carlisle said, hearing Sam's sniffles. "I think he'll be alright." A few moments later, when Carlisle started to lift Dean up, he was pushed away.

"Wrong smell. Sam?" It was more a demand than a question, coming from Dean who was deep in a trance-like state.

Carlisle shook his head, "Son, can you manage to take him, before he starts to insult me again?" A half smile played on his lips as he made way for Sam.

Sam looked up slightly, and nodded as he made his way over. Bending, he slid his arms under Dean's back and knees, lifting him as though he were light as a feather. Sam looked at Carlisle and nodded, "I got him."

 

They made their way down the stairs, Sam leading the way and actually used the front door to go out. Sam carried Dean toward his car and paused, "Impala has more room," he offered to Carlisle. "You can drive, I'll sit in the back with Dean."

 

* * *

 

The stretcher that came out for Dean after Carlisle had gone into the hospital had unnerved Sam, the number of doctors and nurses hovering over Dean had made it worse, but when they asked him to wait outside the room they took Dean into, Sam nearly lost it there in the hall.

 

Now he stood beside Dean's bed, holding onto Dean's hand, reminding himself every few minutes not to hold too tightly, as he watched the blood drip down through the IV and into Dean. It was his fault, it was all his fault. He had done this, had hurt Dean. Golden hazel eyes, shining with more unshed tears looked down at the arm wrapped in a splint. Carlisle had told him it wasn't quite broken, but the bone was dislocated and cracked.

 

 _Humans break so easily._ It was what Carlisle always told them, it was what he knew to be true, they all did, all of the Cullens. They had to be extra careful with a human, like china, they would crack and break, crumble in their hands.

 

"Dean..." Sam sniffled, choked back his tears, "I'm so sorry."

He was so tired, but he heard Sam's voice and it made him smile. He recognized the feeling of disorientation and knew it meant he'd been in a trance. "Did we get there? Did you go all the way, Sam," he asked, certain that not everything he'd felt and seen had been planted in his mind.

Sam's brows furrowed before he shook his head, "No," he whispered out the word, voice raw a he choked back a sob, "Shshsh, just rest." Sam told him as he reached his free hand out to run his fingers through Dean's short soft spiky hair.

Dean's smile slowly faded. He gripped Sam's hand and tried to open his eyes. Feeling sadness radiating from Sam, he added, "We will, next time. We'll get there." 

Sam shook his head, as he sniffled, pulling his hand back from Dean's hair to wipe at his eyes, "No. We won't. Just rest, Dean, please. Just sleep and rest." Sam glanced up at the IV to see if the blood was nearly finished or not, it was the second bag they had brought in.

That spurred Dean to open his eyes. "Don't you say that, Sammy." Only his voice came out much lower than he'd intended and he felt a little dizzy. His surroundings weren't familiar. This wasn't their bed. And why was Sam standing next to him with his eyes so red...."Your... your brother broke our t.v." He saw Sam nod. "Then... we were naked and we... you sure you didn't get off?" He frowned and tried to sit up, wincing when something pinched his inner arm."What--"

Sam quickly put a hand on Dean's shoulder, "You shouldn't move around. Dad said the transfusions would make you dizzy. Lay back... please." Sam didn't use any pressure on Dean's shoulder to make him lay back, only prevented him from sitting up further, nearly afraid he might do something stupid and hurt him again. "If you don't hold still... I'll - I'll go get the nurse."

"What the hell?" Dean finally looked at the tubes leading the bag above his head, then at the stark white sheets, and the bed railings. He tried again to sit up, but Sam's hand stopped him. "I hate hospitals, what am I doing here." He lifted his other hand and saw the splint but couldn't remember getting injured. "If this is part of the trance-dream ... it is _not_ a good one. Sam?"

 

Sam's face crumbled, tears filling his eyes as he shook his head, "No, Dean. No, trance. Me. I happened. Emmett saved your life... from me." he sniffled, "You're in here under my father's care. He - he had to tell them that you had gotten in a fight, " he nodded toward Dean's arm, "to explain that, and all the bruises." He sniffled again, shook his head, "I dunno how he explained all the blood loss."

"From you. That's just silly." Discounting Sam's words he started to try to figure out what actually happened when a wet droplet from Sam's eye struck his arm. "I'm not dying... don't." He swallowed, "let me up." As Sam pressed the button to make the bed rise, putting Dean into a sitting position, Dean thought about everything Sam was saying. He remembered some pain, when Sam got too rough with him. That's why his back and hip hurt. His arm, he couldn't explain that. The blood... "Drank too much? Couldn't stop?"

 

Sam shook his head, tears still rolling down his cheeks, "No," he licked his lips, "I didn't know, didn't realize what I was doing until I was on the floor, Emmett holding me down yelling at me." he sniffled, hung his head, "It was only after his words got through that I... that I knew."

Reaching out, Dean put his hand on Sam's shoulder and pulled him close. "It's alright. Not that hurt. Means I'm special, not like your mint-guy in the bar," he gave a laugh, but saw Sam wasn't joining in or amused. "Wasn't your fault Sam. It's in your nature, like you told me. And I was pushing you." 

Sam clung to Dean, burying his face in his shoulder. "I'm sorry," he told him, words muffled against Dean's body and the hospital gown. He sniffled, and slowly pulled back, "I should have known better, I was at fault. I _did_ know better, but I thought... I wanted so much..." he hung his head, shaking it. "Doesn't matter." he finished softly, closing his eyes as he raised a hand to wipe at them.

Stroking Sam's shoulder, Dean tried to comfort Sam, to show him he was fine and nothing bad had happened. But Sam's last words made his blood run cold. "Why doesn't it matter?" His heart started to race and his adrenalin kicked up a notch as he grasped Sam's hand. "You're not leaving me. Sam... tell me you're not." His fingers tightened around Sam's fingers and he refused to let go.

 

Sam slowly looked up at him, bitter, "You'd be better off," he shook his head as he looked back down, "but no. I'm not leaving. I should. I should leave and keep you safe, " he looked up at Dean, looking miserable, "but I can't."

"Promise." Dean's voice was barely a whisper.

Sam nodded, "Promise. I won't leave you. I..." Sam's face crumbled again, "I love you."

"Me too. Love you." Dean swallowed, then smiled. "Never thought it would be this easy to say it." There was a long moment where he waited expectantly, and then finally spoke again. "Probably a good time to kiss me."

Sam sniffled and gave a small forced smile only to have it fall as he looked at Dean, golden hazel eyes darting. Slowly he raised the hand he held up to his lips and placed a soft kiss on the back of Dean's hand, giving it a small light squeeze before lowering it back against the bed.

Dean frowned. "You know when you called me a 'pain in your ass?'" He started to scoot over in the bed, making sure not to tug on the IV, then looked at Sam again. ""Get on the bed, Sam... or take me home, your choice." He knew that Sam would hesitate and that only blackmail would work. 

 

Sam frowned, brows furrowing as he looked from Dean to the bed and back, "Dean, I don't think it's a good idea... I - I nearly killed you tonight. I - I should stay the hell away from you. Hell, I dunno _why_ you aren't _telling_ me to stay the hell away from you..." he shook his head as he spoke, his eyes continuing to stray to the open area of the bed where Dean had moved from. He looked up at Dean, biting his lip, "I can't."

"I don't care, I need you." When Sam didn't move, Dean got a mulish look on his face. He wanted Sam next to him, needed to be touching, to breathe in his scent. After he asked again, and Sam refused, he started to get agitated. His pulse rate was shooting up, the equipment next to him beeping and even after a nurse came in and asked him to rest, he refused. 

Sam sighed, as he listed to the nurse and Dean refuse to do as she said, "Dean, please... you need to rest, you..." he glanced at the nurse, "you've been through a lot."

 

The nurse, huffed as she and Dean held a glaring contest for a few moments, she then looked at Sam, "Okay you, you might be Doctor Cullen's son, but I want you out. If he has no one to talk to he'll have to calm down." She waved Sam toward the door, still eyeing Dean.

 

Sam turned toward the door, head hanging. He glanced back at Dean over his shoulder as he reached the door, "love you." he said softly.

It took a couple of seconds for Dean to understand what was happening and to protest loudly. "No, he can't go, Sam... Sam!" Seeing that Sam intended to leave him there, Dean started to try to pull out the damned IV with his sprained hand. When the nurse started to chide him, he glared at her. "I know my rights, you can't force me to stay. He leaves, I leave ... it's that simple."

Sam looked back at the nurse who looked at Sam with a huff, "He stays," she pointed at Dean, "You had better calm down. I have a hankerin' to give enema's tonight," she told him with a curt nod, before turning to the door and storming out.

 

Sam watched her go before looking back at Dean, "I think she's serious."

"Like to see her try," he muttered, swearing at her bedside manners. "You coming? Want you to hold me," he insisted, not understanding why Sam was being so damned uncooperative. 

 

Sam sighed and ran a hand through his hair, "I still think it's not a good idea," he said as he walked back to Dean's bed and slowly eased down beside him, "but if it will get you to calm down and rest... fine," Sam told him, as he opened his arms for Dean to cuddle up to him the way they did at home, or as close to it as the IV would allow. He sighed as he wrapped his arms around Dean, holding him loosely,"Emmett's mad at me. He says we ruined sex for him... forever."

Leaning against Sam's chest, Dean rubbed his cheek against him as he listened. "How? How'd we ruin it? It was beautiful. Wait... he saw us having sex?" Dean hated the idea but was too relaxed against Sam to get too worked up about it just yet.

Sam nodded. "He saw. He tackled me off you. Saved your life, I told you. And no, Dean," he shook his head, "it wasn't beautiful. It was horrible. _I_ was horrible." Sam let out a breath and closed his eyes, "Never gonna happen again, I promise. I won't hurt you ever again," he murmured softly, kissing Dean's head.

 

The door to Dean's room burst open suddenly as Sam's brothers and sisters walked in.

 

Sam's eyes snapped open at the sound of their feet as they entered, golden hazel eyes followed them as they walked in.

 

"Oh that's smart, Sam. I save him from you not three hours ago and you're already back at it? Smooth move, Sam." Emmett huffed, shaking his head.

 

"Sam, I can't believe this happened. What were you thinking?" Alice asked him.

 

Ros stood to the side, her arms crossed over her chest, glaring at both Sam and Dean. "Leave them be, if he kills him, then we can say we told him so."

 

Jasper sighed and looked at Sam, "He feels bad about it," he told the others, then narrowed his gaze at Sam and nodded, "And you should."

Dean's fingers dug into Sam as he raised himself up to face the Cullens. "Lay off, alright? You," he jutted his chin toward Jasper, "were trying to kill me yourself a couple hours ago." He shifted his gaze to Emmett, "And Sam's not 'back' at anything. I made him get in bed with me." He looked at Alice and Ros next. "We just had a slip up, that's all. Happens."

Jasper nodded, "I had reasons and Sam and I understand that. But, he's suppose to take care of what he claims is _'his'_."

 

Emmett quirked a brow, "Uh-huh... sure he isn't," he rolled his eyes, "And this coming from, who was it again? 'all the way Dean'?"

 

Alice and Ros both sighed though Alice was the one to step up to Sam and run a hand over his hair, as he looked at her tears in his eyes. "You know better, Sam. You know they're made of glass. Where's your control? Where's the Sam I know?" she asked him softly.

 

Ros huffed, "Went to hell with that one." she nodded toward Dean, "that's where."

 

Sam sniffled and shook his head, "I didn't mean to do it," he insisted.

 

Emmett narrowed his eyes, "I had to tackle you off and hold you down to the floor dude! You snarled at me! You were way past 'didn't mean to'."

 

Alice looked from Sam to Emmett and back, "You don't remember, Sam?" she asked him and bit her lip, "maybe it would be best if you two refrained from anymore sexual stuff."

 

Sam nodded, "Yeah," he said softly, head hanging as a tear ran down his cheek, "I know."

"No. We are not deciding our sex lives 'by committee', Goddamnit... now get out, all of you, before I get Nurse Rachett in here and tell her you all need enemas." Fuming, Dean ignored them and turned to look up at Sam. "That is not an option Sam, now tell them to get out and mind their own business." Shit, if he didn't feel weak as a kitten, he'd get out of bed and make it happen. Where the hell did they get off thinking they could tell them how to live their lives? 

Emmett looked pointedly at his brother, "You had better hope and pray that the wolves at the Res don't hear about this. If this messes with the treaty..." he shook his head, jaw clenched.

 

"I know." Sam told him softly.

 

Alice sighed, and ran her hand down Sam's hair, pulling away and turning toward the door. "I expected better from you, Sam."

 

The others turned to follow her out, but Rosalie stopped at the door and looked back, "If this goes south, then I was right. You should have left him where you found him, Dean," she glanced at Sam, before turning and walking out.

"What the hell?" Forget the tubes, the splint or any weakness he felt, Dean was scrambling to get out of bed to get to Ros and make her take back her hateful words. It was only Sam's arms around him, holding like steel bands that prevented him from following even as he let out out a stream of curses, both aimed at Ros and at Sam for not letting him go. "Fucking let go, Sam... this is not right, goddamit."

"No, Dean. They're right, I messed up. If the wolves at the Res hear about it, there will be trouble and that's my fault. You're injured, I hurt you, the one I claim to love, I hurt you. That's my fault. They're right. I should have fought harder, shouldn't have let go so much, shouldn't have... allowed myself to - to _want_ so much."

"They're right?!" Dean shoved him, though Sam didn't move an inch. "The hell they are... the hell she is. Sam, don't let her talk to you like that. As for the rest, whatever. This is between you and me, not them." He knew all about the werewolves at the res, Sam had told him about the treaty between the wolves and the Cullens. So long as the Cullens never stepped foot on reservation lands protected by the werewolves, and never bit humans, the treaty between them was intact. If they violated it, then the wolves would attack the vampires, and there would be a bloodbath, also making it impossible for the Cullens to live their peaceful and near-normal lives. Even living this close to the reservation, Dean had never realized his neighbors were werewolves, but he wondered if his father had known. He remembered his father spending quite a bit of time with the the residents and council at the reservation, and being quite secretive about it all. 

 

"Sam?" He knew how much power Sam's siblings had over him and was scared to hell that something they said would change things between them.

His thoughts in turmoil, Sam sat quietly thinking about everything his brothers and sisters had said. If the treaty was broken, he'd offer himself as a means to the ends. So that a war didn't start. If they had the vampire who had caused the problem, maybe they'd forgive it and allow his family to remain living their lives in peace among the humans of Forks. Sam leaned his head over and dropped a soft kiss on Dean's head, "Yeah?"

"You're scaring me. Tell me what's going on in your head. Tell me you're not listening to them."

Sam tightened his grip slightly, making sure not to let it be too tight, "Nothing for you to worry about Just rest. Heal." he turned his head, burying his face against Dean's shoulder, "for me."

Still feeling uneasy, Dean nodded and closed his eyes, telling himself Sam had just told him he wasn't gonna leave him. Sam wouldn't lie. He'd be here, and then they could figure stuff out, just the two of them. "Gonna sleep now," he whispered, holding onto Sam, as much as he believed him, a part of him needed to make sure.

Sam laid his head back on the pillow, his hand absently running through Dean's hair like he did so often, "sleep, baby." he told him softly, "I'll be here as long as I can be." he added even softer once he heard the even, steady breathing telling him Dean was asleep.

 

* * *

 

Almost a week had passed since Dean got out of the hospital, there had been no ramifications from the werewolves who had no clue about the biting incident, and yet Sam was acting like the world had stopped turning. Worse, he pulled away from Dean anytime Dean tried to initiate any physical contact beyond hugging or being held. That wasn't sitting well with Dean, not at all. A guy could only take so much rejection before blowing up, and that time was drawing close.

When he woke in Sam's arms, Dean had a morning stiffy. Only it had probably been building up for days, since he'd had no relief. Jerking off hadn't felt right, not with his left hand, so here he was, with Sam's scent driving him crazy, his hard body right here half under him, and that tempting mouth inches away. Rolling completely on top of Sam, Dean nudged his aroused cock over Sam's and kissed him. "Mornin' lover."

Sam's eyes darted from the ceiling to Dean's face as he shifted his hips and rear slightly to the side, so they're bodies were no longer aligned. "Good Morning. Did you sleep well?" Sam ran his hand down Dean's back, turning his head to look toward the window before he looked back at him again, "Let me up, I'll go get you coffee and breakfast."

"Uh uh, not hungry for food, or thirsty for coffee." Dean spoke against Sam's lips, then licked along its seam. "Give me your tongue," he said, shifting his body again, this time pressing his cock into Sam's hip. 

Sam's body jerked, going ridged and still, though he slowly poked his tongue out of his mouth at Dean. He was sure it wasn't what Dean had meant, but as he lay there looking into Dean's eyes, he couldn't manage to bring himself to care that he was purposfully being hard to get along with. It was keeping Dean safe, and that was the main, important thing.

Before Dean could wrap his mouth around Sam's tongue, it disappeared. He made a frustrated sound and forced his mouth down over Sam's, pushing his tongue inside and kissing him... trying in vain to get him to respond. Again, all he got was nothing. "Did I turn ugly overnight?" he asked, scrambling off Sam and standing next to the bed and letting Sam get an eyeful of his tenting shorts, before his vampire looked away.

"No." Sam told him softly, "You're beautiful as always."

"Show me." Dean leaned over Sam to give him a chance, his mouth hovering over Sam's... aching, burning for the kisses he knew the vampire was capable of giving him.

Sam turned his head, lips pressed in a firm line as he looked up at Dean, "I can't."

Dean didn't hide his anger as he stepped back and stormed to the shower, slamming the door shut behind him. Sonovabitch. How long did _he_ think he could take this? 

Later, when he got out of the shower and came back in the room, his breakfast was waiting on him and Sam was looking at him with those eyes that could melt an iceberg. Dean pressed his lips together, gave the food a scathing look and grabbed his shoes and clothes. Storming downstairs, he got dressed in record time and shot out the door.

Sam hung his head as heard heard the front door slam closed. Did he think this was easy for him? Did he think this was what _he_ wanted? No. It was what _had to_ be. For the good of everyone, to keep the peace, for Dean's safety. He'd promised he wouldn't leave, and he wouldn't. But it didn't mean that he had to put Dean in danger again.

That was something he never wanted to do, not ever again.

* * *

When Dean pulled into the parking lot of Ginks and didn't see Sam's eye catching car, he was pretty sure that Sam had forgotten they were going to Bill's birthday bash. The vampire had gone over to his family after school, and Dean bet that was where they filled his head with all the 'don'ts'. Goddammit, his life was going down the toilet because of the Cullens.

Maybe it was better Sam wasn't here. The mood he was getting worked up into, who knew what would happen. He pushed the doors open and walked inside the dark club, the music thrumming around him. There, in the distant corner, leaning against a pillar near the bar, stood Sam. So tall, so fucking handsome, there was no way Dean could resist his pull.

He crossed over to stand near Sam, searching his face. "You made it."

Sam looked away from watching the drinks being poured to look over at Dean and gave a slow nod, "Yeah," he frowned, "I told you I would." He licked his lips and looked back at the bartender mixing virgin drinks, "wonder if I could drink one?" he muttered, almost to himself.

"If you got your sense of adventure back, maybe," Dean said almost caustically. Heading for the bar, he ordered himself a coke and a virgin bloody mary for Sam, making sure he emphasized the word 'virgin'. After sharing a joke with the bartender, he returned and gave the red drink to Sam, meeting his gaze.

 

Sam took the glass and quirked a brow, "You realize if I drink this and I shouldn't, I'll be curled in a ball in the middle of the floor, right?" he asked, a small smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

"Then hold it like a prop and pretend. You're good at that, pretending." He was still angry from the morning. No Goddamit, he was angry for everything that happened this week. 

Sam hung his head, shaking it, before he looked back up at Dean, "And just what am I pretending? To love you? To worry about you? That I was horrible? That I put my family in danger? That I put _you_ in danger? Or maybe that I could have killed you had Emmett not shown up?" he tilted his head to the side, "Did you forget about all the damn bruises?"

"No I didn't forget. They're _my_ bruises and it's not the fucking end of the world, like you're making it." He took a deep breath, nostrils flaring. "You're pretending to be my boyfriend, but you're acting like ... like a buddy, like Billy or Frank, or any of them. I don't need another buddy, Sam. And you can stop pretending like this is enough, for either of us." 

Sam narrowed his eyes at Dean. The glass he held in his hand exploding into a million pieces, drink spilling all over the floor, though it looked as though the glass had just suddenly exploded. "I'm doing the best I can." Sam told him through gritted teeth.

For an instant, Dean worried about Sam's hand... but how many times had he been told nothing could cut Sam? That he was the glass in Sam's hands?. "No you're not."

That was when Bill and some of their... or technically Dean's... friends got off the dancefloor and joined them, making much of the mess on the ground. Some of them made much of a Cullen mixing with them, asking Sam if he'd ever been here before. Automatically, Dean slid into his 'fun' persona, and cracked joke after joke, making everyone laugh even as he was breaking on the inside.

Sam stood dutifully by, even if he was quiet, not laughing with the others as his golden hazel eyes followed Dean's every movement, every facial expression. As he drank in the sound of his laughter, memorized the smiles on his face. He was sure they wouldn't be there later for him. Shifting his weight, Sam sighed as he slipped silently back into one of the darkened corners of the bar, taking a seat there. Alone, in the dark, it was something he was use to, something he could identify with, it was where he belonged.

As it got later, the conversation somehow turned to sex, as it always did. Kissing techniques were tossed around with the girls airing their complaints and the guys bragging. As Dean gave his answer about the best way to persuade a girl to kiss you on a first date, his gaze traveled to the dance floor. Even as his friends hung onto his every word, his mind was elsewhere, watching couples hold hands, touch... kiss. 

Mid sentence, he pushed away from the railing dividing the bar crowd from the dance floor, announced he was leaving and headed for the bar, and catching Sam's gaze nodded toward the door. 

Sam pulled to his feet, following Dean out, walking up to Dean at the Impala, "We going home?" he asked him, as he walked around to the passenger door, "I didn't bring my car. Walked."

"Nope." Dean waited for Sam to get in, then gunned it, skidding out of the lot and heading out onto the road. They hadn't been driving for more than a minute when he took an off road route. Damn, he really could use a drink tonight. He was pretty sure he had some beers left at home, but would need to pick up more some time when he was outta town and could use his fake ID.

Sam frowned as he looked out the window, "Where are we going, Dean?"

"You don't recognize this route? You don't remember a tree falling right.... here?" He gave Sam a pointed look, driving past the point and heading deeper into the forested area leading to the cliffs. 

Sam pressed his lips together, "Why?" he asked him, shifting nervously in his seat.

"Should be obvious."

Sam sighed, "So, you're determined to torture me?"

"Is it torture? Kissing me is torture now," hurt and anger gave Dean's words an edge as he found a place to park a little ways away from the other cars with fogged windows. Turning the key and pulling the brake up, he turned bodily toward Sam, eyes blazing.


	21. Chapter 21

Sam turned his head to look at Dean, "Yes. It's torture, because I'm afraid of hurting you. I'm afraid that I might do somethng stupid again and," Sam shook his head, "I won't let myself do that," golden hazel eyes full of hurt searched Dean's face, "I want you so badly, want to kiss you, to touch you and I have to make myself not. So, yes, yes it is torture."

"You want it? Take it, Goddamit. I'm right here... right here Sammy, he grabbed Sam's shirt and drew him close as he leaned over him. "I don't want to be your little stuffed animal pal, you kiss me on the top of my head, and then think that's it... it's time to sleep. It doesn't work that way, it _can't_ work that way. You listen to your family and ignore what I want? Like I have no say in this? Since when, Sam? It's my life, I decide how to live it, and I don't want to live it like this. You wanna listen to _them_ , then you're going back on your promise to me."

Sam shook his head, "I - I'm not. That was before," Sam's eyes went to Dean's splinted arm as he bit his lip. Looking back at Dean face, Sam frowned, heartbroken, "I don't even remember doing that," he told him softly, "What if I do something worse next time? Then what? I don't care about the treaty, I can take care of that. I worry about _you_."

Dean swooped down, crushing his lips against Sam's mouth. He kissed him hard, delving his tongue inside and trying desperately to engage Sam's He cupped the side of Sam's face, holding him steady as he assaulted him with every seductive move he knew, urging, cajoling, tempting. It was a battle of wills, one that Dean didn't have much experience in losing, until recently. Until now.

Dean drew away abruptly, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. "While you're busy worrying about me, you're going to lose me, because I can't... I won't take this. Maybe it's what you want. Maybe you're just a coward and don't want to be the one to say it, you want to push me... keep pushing me away until I do it," he spat out, angrily, eyes tearing. 

Sam blinked at Dean, totally and utterly shocked and baffled by his outburst, he shook his head, "No. No, Dean. I don't want to lose you, I'm not trying to..." Sam grit his teeth, hands clenching into fists where they rested, one against the seat, one in his lap. "Dammit, Dean!" Sam spat, as he reached out with the hand that had been in his lap and grabbed a handful of Dean's shirts, hauling him up against him and crushing his lips to Dean's.

 

Something else. Sam would just think about something else. Like he did when he was tortured and didn't want to feel, when he needed to escape. Yeah, that was good, that's what he'd do... at least it was what he told himself all the way up to the point that Dean's tongue tangled with his and he was moaning into Dean's mouth, teeth aching.

Sam's capitulation ignited a fuse inside Dean. He'd missed this, missed Sam so much... missed having him on fire, right there with him. Now Sam wasn't holding back, wasn't making him feel unwanted, unneeded, ignored. He practically climbed into Sam's lap, wanting, needing to get closer, arms around Sam's shoulders, mouth fused to the vampire's, refusing to allow even a small space between them. One mind drugging kiss followed the next, with him breaking them only to take a quick breath before plastering himself against Sam again until their windows were as fogged up as all the other cars around them.

 

Sam forced himsef to draw back into his mind like he had taught himself to do long ago, so that he wouldn't feel pain. Now, he did it to keep Dean safe, to be certain he didn't push too far, ask for more than Dean's fragile body could handle. _He was walking down the alley, the back one, Momma and Papa had told him never to go down. The had told him that bad men and ladies of ill repute were the only ones who went back there, that if he was a good man like Papa and wanted to ever find a woman to love like Momma he wouldn't go to places like that. But, he was a boy, and like all boys he wanted to prove how brave he was._

_He wasn't afraid of the men outside fighting, or the ladies that were cat-calling to him as he walked through the night, they only served to turn his face a deep shade of scarlet and make his feet move a bit faster. He had been at the far end, past the taverns and the whorehouses, when he'd seen him. The tall pale man with the white-blond hair pulled back and fastened. He'd turned and smiled at him as he approached, but he didn't smile back. Sometimes when you smiled at bad men, you were just asking for trouble. For attention you really didn't want. Instead he had hung his head, eyes on his feet._

_He hadn't heard the man approach, didn't even think he was there, until a hand had reached out and touched his shoulder. It was then that he had stilled. He was use to people wanting to touch him to be healed, and this man, the pale tall one, he must have been sick, that was why he had sought him out, that was why he was pulling him in close now..._

When he finally broke the kiss, Dean was sure his mouth was swollen. He was breathing hard, and still holding onto Sam as if he was afraid to let go, like Sam would slide back into this closed off person he'd become. "I can't stand when you ignore me. Please don't do it anymore."

 

Sam blinked at Dean, brow furrowing. "Huh? What did you say?"

"You know what I said."

Sam tried to think of what it would be that Dean said. "Uh, me too?" he tried, frowning.

After staring at Sam for a long minute, Dean leaned over, opened the passenger door and climbed over Sam to get out of the car. If it weren't his own car, he'd have punched it. His gaze pierced the near darkness, seeing the other cars and one of them bouncing up and down. Once he'd had a normal life like that. Now it was just games. Cursing up a storm he walked to the edge of the cliff and looked down at the foaming water hitting the rocks below.

Sam pulled from the car, walking silently up behind Dean. Likely too silently for him to know he was there, or else he was ignoring him. "I'm sorry. I was... I was trying to keep you safe." he sighed and hung his head. "I didn't do that right this time either. It wasn't meant to hurt you. I was only thinking."

Dean shoved his hands in his pockets and didn't turn. "They're happy... all those people, they can be happy. Why can't we? Why?" he demanded. "Why do we have to play all these fucking games. Yeah we're together, no we're not, then yeah we are but if I touch you, you go as cold as stone, and now you fucking pretend to feel something. I don't want 'pretend' Sam," he turned around to look at him. "Do you hear me, or am I speaking too low?" he practically shouted now. Goddamnit he couldn't even get a real kiss now?

Sam shook his head slowly, "I'm not playing games. And I'm not pretending. I'm protecting you, from myself. What do you want, Dean? You want to hear how much I would love to kiss you, to lick you, to undress you slowly, and taste you, to feel you inside me again, holding you in my arms and never let go... is that what you want to hear? Well, it's true, but we both found out the hard way that I can't do that. I hurt you, I drank far too much from you, I nearly killed you. Do you have any idea the guilt I feal about that? Do you have any idea how often I think about that? About how I almost killed the one person I love more than anything." Sam huffed, "It's the worst thing in the world to know that you can't touch and love and kiss and be with the person you love because they might shatter in your hands. Because you aren't strong enough not to want more than their china bodies can give."

"Yes, yes Goddamit, that's what I want to hear... that's what I want to hear, Sam. The rest of it... fine, we fucked up once, but you're just gonna give up on all the strides we made, just like that? Throw it all away? It's that easy? It may be easy for you," he poked a hard finger into Sam's chest. "But it's not for me. I can't stand it... I can't... if to protect me you have to act like you don't see me, then forget it... I don't want that. That hurts a helluva lot more than any trip to the hospital. You don't see that? Then look deeper," he ground out. "I've broken a lot of bones, been bruised all over, bled... and it NEVER hurt me this bad Sam. Just because you don't see it, doesn't mean it's not there," he ended in low whisper.

"I never meant to hurt you. In _any_ way." Sam told him softly, reaching a hand out to cup Dean's face, before letting it fall. He stood there a long moment trying to decide, trying to see how he was feeling right then, was it safe? Could he do what he wanted to do so badly? He bit his lip and took a step closer, slowly leaning in to place a soft kiss on Dean's lips. "Don't be mad at me," he whispered, kissing him, "I'm just scared," he kissed him again, "I don't want to mess up and lose you forever, be the cause of you not being there to brighten my world," he kissed him again, "I've missed touching you," he slowly wrapped an arm around Dean, "I've missed kissing you," another kiss, "I've missed..." the corner of Sam's lips quirked upward, though the darkness hid his pink stained cheeks, "I'm sorry," he kissed him again, "for everything."

A part of Dean was afraid to believe, even as the soft words washed over him, soothing him. The ups and downs were killing him. In the car, he'd thought it was for real, that things would go back to normal, and then it had all been fake, Sam just doing what he wanted. As Sam's arm went around him, as he spoke to him between kisses, it all seemed so real, like Sam meant it. A lump grew in Dean' throat as he held onto Sam, searching his eyes. "For real?" he had to ask, even as he dragged Sam closer, until every part of their bodies touched. 

Sam nodded, "For real. No more thinking about my past to block out feeling you now. No more avoiding this, no more hurting you," he raised his free hand and placed it on Dean's beating heart. He grit his teeth, cleared his throat as he fought back his vampiric reactions to the beat, "here." he told him softly. "I'm sorry. I was so worried about here," he moved his hand to Dean's splinted arm, "I forgot about the rest."

Dean closed his eyes for a second, then pulled Sam into his embrace, putting his head on his chest and holding him tight. "Okay," he nodded, "okay. Reset. Back to before that happened. We still kiss, we try stuff, but I won't push you like that night." He knew he was as responsible for what happened as Sam. "Not unless there are chains involved. Just..." he wiped his face on Sam's chest, not wanting him to see the tears, though his voice was hoarse. "I need you Sam, I need you to be there, not some robot..." he looked up. "This morning, I thought I was going out of my head, like it wasn't even you in the bed with me."

Sam wrapped his arms around Dean and held him tightly, _but carefully_ , and kissed Dean's temple. "I'm sorry. I know. I was... I wasn't really there either. Kinda someplace inside myself." he shook his head, "I don't want to go there anymore. Wanna stay here with you." Je leaned in then, slanting his mouth over Dean's and kissing him tenderly.

They kissed for a long time, somehow ending up with Sam's back up against a tree. They'd groped each other and even moved under each others' shirts. Dean knew Sam wanted to call it, but after everything, might be afraid to. He lifted his head and took a deep breath, enjoying the feel of the light sprinkling of rain on his face. "Let's go watch a movie and... cool down," he gave a lop sided grin. 

Sam gave an audible sigh and nodded, smiling, "Yeah, that would be good." He started to release Dean, only to grab him again and pull him back, "Love you." he said, before kissing him one more time.

* * *

A couple of weeks later, Sam was visiting his family and Dean dropped by. He knew Sam would probably spend all afternoon there, but agreed to come and play video games. Once they'd resolved their issues and gotten into a pattern of fooling around at will, but going to the safe room whenever either of them got the urge to go farther, Dean hadn't been so hostile toward the rest of the Cullens. The only one he still really resented was Ros, because he couldn't stomach her comment that he should have left Dean in that place. If she'd seen the way they kept him in chains, or the surgical table and all the blood, she might eat her words.

One thing about video games... at least he had a shot at compeating with vampires. Sure their quick reflexes were an advantage, but the games were made for humans so quickness only went so far. Plus there was an art to some of the games, and shooting was Dean's forte. He grinned as he beat Jasper and tossed the control to Sam. It wasn't as if he hadn't lost any games, but he'd done well and unlike when they'd played football, no one had to take it easy on him. "Beat that," he challenged Sam and Emmett who were next. 

"He's cocky." Emmett remarked, as he took the controls from Jasper.

 

"Well, he kinda kicked my ass." Jasper confessed with a shrug.

 

Sam grinned, glancing at Dean, "Luck, that's all it was." He teased, winking at Dean. "Tell ya what, Dean can wrestle the winner, see who wins that," he offered a naughty smirk pulling at his lips.

 

"No way! I am _not_ rollin' around on the floor with your human!" Emmett scoffed.

 

Sam frowned at his brother, eyes narrowing, "Who said anything about it being _you_?"

"If he's like you and gets aroused just by wrestling, forget it... no wrestling _him_ " Dean simultaneously said, knowing full well that issue aside, Sam was unlikely to let any vampire get too near him, at least in a physical sense where he might get injured.

 

Alice walked into the room, leaning against the wall, a small smile on her lips as she watched the men, "Dean... would you help me with something in the kitchen?" she asked him, biting her lip, "We got you a few things to nibble on, but no one quite knows what to do with any of it." While that was true, they had started to keep a few finger foods around for Dean, it was also a good way for her to ask him about the investigating he'd been doing into those horrible people who had taken her brother. She smiled softly, wiggling a finger at him, in a come-hither manner as she pulled from the wall.

Seeing that the others had noticed her gesture, Dean raised his arms up, "she's kidding... okay... just play, call me when it's my turn." As he turned and followed her out, he half way expected to be attacked. Well, not really, but there was always the possibility.

 

Sam frowned slightly, but returned his attention to the game as Emmett started without him.

In the kitchen, he rolled his eyes when it turned out to be only a matter of picking out a snack, and then opening the bag of chips. Tearing it with his teeth, he then followed Alice out the front door, eyebrow raised. "You're not gonna molest me in full view of your family, are you?" he asked, nodding at all the windows overhead. "They seriously flipped the last time..."

Alice raised a perfect brow and licked her lips, her eyes moving to glance upward before settling back on Dean. "Have you found out anything more? Are those animals still after my brother, Dean?"

He seriously thought about telling her nothing, but his sense of fair play... yeah he had one goddamit... made him re-think. He owed her. If Sammy and Jasper's reaction towards him was anything to go by, he'd gotten her into deep shit with her family that night. He gave her a nod. "I think I know who and where they are now. I don't think they'll ever stop," he glanced up toward the window, indicating toward where Sam was so that in case anyone was listening in, they'd only get cryptic bits and pieces. "Not until I stop them."

Alice sighed and bit her lip, "He'll lose it, you know that. You go anywhere near them and Sam finds out, he's going to go through the roof." she raised a brow and gave a cut nod, "you better be careful, and watch your back. I don't know what would be worse, Sam finding out you're messing around those animals to keep him safe, or something actually happening to you. Either way, I think I'd almost feel sorry for them, if I didn't want to rip their damn heads off myself."

"I'm not going alone. I'm taking an army," he gave her a serious smile, eyes glinting with determination. "Not taking any chances." He didn't mention that he believed at least one of the guys after Sam was one of them, instinctively knowing that if told her that, all bets would be off the table. "About that night... Sam told me it was _his_ job to protect me. Well it's mine, to protect him."

Alice smiled at that, reaching out she patted his shoulder, "Yeah, good luck with that." she told him with a small chuckle as she stepped past him, heading back inside. She entered the house, just as Sam was stepping out, "What were you two doing out here?" Sam asked Dean, brow quirked as he glanced back at his sister, then looked to Dean. "Well, it's you're turn... oh, and, uh, looks like you're gonna have to wrestle _me_ later," Sam told him with a small grin.

"Trading tips on how to 'drive your man wild,'" he smirked, licking his lips at Sam's suggestion. "I know what happens when you wrestle," walking close, he let a finger trail down Sam's chest. "Maybe we can try out the jacuzzi."

Sam paused mid-step, grabbing Dean's hand and pulling him closer, "Death wish," he said softly as darkening golden hazel eyes gazed into green. He shook his head, "As much as I'd like to... probably _not_ a good idea," he shrugged a shoulder, "unless you _liked_ Nurse Hatchet and her thoughts on night time enemas." His brow quirked a small smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

"Not funny," Dean answered, leaning into him slightly. "Then I'll play in the jacuzzi and be nice and hot... by the time you get back, there'll be steam rising off my body." Seeing he had Sam's attention with that, he lifted his face and kissed Sam. "Come on, one more game and I'm outta here... but don't make me wait too long at home, might start without you," he teased.

Sam licked Dean's taste from his lips, catching his bottom lip between his teeth, before following Dean with a muffled groan. Leaning in behind Dean, his lips near Dean's ear, "You play dirty. Not fair. You start without me and it starts me whether I want it to or not." With a soft moan meant only for Dean to hear though his brothers were sure to anyway, Sam pulled back and stepped around him. 

 

"To save Emmett's eyes, Dean and I decided to wrestle at home later, so instead he'll play Emmett now." Sam announced to his brother's as he took a seat beside Jasper who suddenly looked rather uncomfortable. 

 

"Do you _always_ have to project so strongly?" Jasper mumbled, pulling from the couch and walking out of the room, "ALICE!!!" 

* * *

After killing a couple of hours running errands around town, and making a call to Zachariah Medical Lines, Inc. to set up an appointment with Dr. Zachariah himself, one he didn't intend to keep but had made to confirm the man was back in the states, Dean was finally soaking in the jacuzzi. He didn't think Sam had used it once, but he'd kinda gotten hooked on it. When Sam asked him about it once, he'd told him it was 'the vibration, baby.' Sam had flushed so bright, Dean had to wonder how he'd taken what he said. His vampire was such a contrast of pervy and innocence, he sometimes wondered if there were two personalities living in there.

He slid against the tub, straightened, and repositioned himself next to a jet. It felt so fucking good, easing the tension in his back and shoulders. But that wasn't exactly what he was dying to use it for... he wanted to be in here sometime, with Sam... wanted to be pressed up against his lover with the water bubbling around them, and then they could fuck like rabbits right outside... on the floor, with the tile cooling them off.

His cock hardened and twitched in response to his imaginings. Just like that, he decided it was time for Sammy to come home and see to him, goddamnit. He'd been at the Cullens for more than enough time. They were gonna wrestle... and then they were gonna go down to the safe room and--

Hearing a creaking sound, he grinned. Sam was back. Walking across to the other side of the jazuzzi, he stretched out to look past the open door into the bedroom. It was empty. A frown marred his forehead as he wondered if he'd imagined the sound, when he heard it again. From downstairs.

There was no fucking way Sam came in from the front door. The instant the realization slammed into him, Dean scrambled out of the tub, quickly wrapping a white towel around his waist with one hand as he ran to the room and got his gun out of the drawer. He had it out, and cocked, but when he turned, there were five guys rushing him. He shot and hit a couple, but was dragged into a physical fight. 

Something blunt struck the back of his head so hard he almost blacked out. He lost the gun, but crawled away, trying to pull a knife out of his pants. _No fucking way he was gonna be taken in his own house. No fucking way._

"Stop him," a voice echoed around Dean. It had to be due to the blow, because he wasn't hearing normally.

Then he was being kicked, and held down on his stomach. "Sonova---" He struggled to get out of their grasp. Felt for the knife and used it to blindly stab. Then it was turned on him and he was shouting at the top of his lungs, partly to try to get strength to push the assholes off him.

One moment he was making progress, the next, a cloth was placed tightly over his nose so he drew in noxious medicine scented breaths and quickly fell into black oblivion.

* * *

Alice watched Jasper as he walked out of their bedroom after the quickie they'd had to rid him of the sexual projections Sam had been sending .She smiled at his retreating back, shaking her head. Well, one thing about it, since Dean had come into their lives, things hadn't been _boring_.

 

Rising from her seat in front of her dressing table, she started to follow Jasper out, when her eyes widened and she quickly moved back, grabbing a sheet of paper off the dresser and drawing lead. Sitting at her dressing table, Alice began to draw what she was seeing, only stopping when the vision ended and the picture was completed. Rocking back in the small brass and velvet chair, Alice stared numbly at the picture for a few moments. "Dean..." she whispered into the empty room, before catching her bottom lip between perfect straight white teeth, worrying it. Rising, drawing in hand, Alice raced from the room.

 

Jasper glanced up as Alice ran by the family room where he, Sam and Emmett sat, a frown creasing his brow.

 

"What is it?" Sam asked him, drawing Emmett's attention as well.

 

Jasper shook his head and pulled to his feet, still staring off in the direction Alice ran to. "Something's wrong, Alice is.... panicked."

 

Sam and Emmett seemed to stand at the same moment. "Let's go see what the deal is." Emmett suggested, already stepping around Sam.

 

*

 

Alice ran into the large den where Carlisle and Esme sat relaxing, her large golden eyes wide, "I had a vision...about Dean."

"Dean?" Carlisle put his paper down and turned to his daughter. "I take it that it wasn't of the good variety." He didn't ask, knowing she'd tell him in good time.

Alice shook her head, stepping forward and handing him the drawing. "He's dead. I saw Dean die." she told him softly, glancing over her shoulder as she kept a wary eye out for Sam.

Esme shook her head 'no' and gripped Carlisle's arm. Her son, what would become of Sam. She liked Dean fine, had accepted him into the family, but right now, she was terrified of what his death would mean and do to Sam.

His gaze scanned every inch of the drawing even as she explained what she'd seen. He recognized the table Dean was laying on. It was a surgical table. Dean's insides lay next to his body. Had those fiends found out about Sam's involvement with Dean and taken Dean for that reason? As the family surrounded him to look at the picture, he raised a hand. "Let's all remember this is only a possible future. We'll protect him, from this moment on. Whether he likes it or not."

 

Sam frowned and reached a hand out to take the drawing from Carlisle, when he fell to one knee with a groan, his eyes closing tightly. Forcing his eyes open Sam looked at the picture, eyes widening as he bit his bottom lip, stiffling another grown of pain. His eyes were riveted to the sight of his beloved laying there, so lifeless, even if it was just a drawing.

Esme immediately got up and put her hand on Sam's shoulder. She'd never forget the depth of the pain etched in his face at this moment and hoped that she'd never see it again, that Alice's vision would not come to pass.

 

Sam forced himself to look away, at the rest of the drawing, eyes narrowing. He knew that man... or at least he thought he did... the hair pulled back, the high cheekbones, nearly sunken face... it was so framiliar and yet he didn't know a name or a real meeting to attach to it, but there was something about him that rang a bell. He didn't take the time to figure out what exactly it was however as he hurriedly pulled to his feet and shoving the paper back at Carlisle with a shakey hand.

 

Eyes inky black and fangs bared, Sam turned toward the front door, hands clenching and unclenching into fists, though he moved faster than the human eye could track him. He was through the room and out the door, even before the yelled words from his father, or the sound of the door banging closed twice behind him reached his ears.

"Emmett, go with him," Carlisle shouted when Sam acted as if he hadn't heard a word he said. "And make sure Dean comes back here.... whether he wants to, or not." Ordinarily, he was a believer in choice, but he wasn't about to allow anything to happen to Dean, not with all the ramifications. "Take the car, he'll want to bring some things with him."

Sam ran all the way home, moving quickly through the woods, jumping over fallen tree trunks and limbs with ease. His mind full of worry, in his mind's eye the drawing hovered there, like some sort of death omen, just waiting, taunting, teasing him. _No, no, it couldn't be true. Not HIS Dean, not him._ Sam ran faster, breaking out of the woods and nearly missing the point he normally jumped from as his feet skittered to a halt, kickin up dirt, before he was up and through the window. As soon as he entered the house, the scent of Dean's blood hit him, tearing a snarl from his lips, fangs bared. Bloodlust gnawed at him, churned deep within, just as it had the day he had come home to find his family slaughtered, when he had drank the last of his baby sisters blood as he held her body in his arms so carefully. 

 

Sam moved through the house, nearly over-turning every item, as though Dean might be hiding under something somewhere. It wasn't until he was on his way back up from the basement that he ran in to Emmett standing in the middle of the living room.

 

"Sam...I dunno what to say..." he started, as golden eyes darted about the house, vampire senses took in the scent of blood.

 

Sam fought the bloodlust burning inside himself as dark eyes took in the form of his brother.

 

"Don't! DO NOT say he is dead! He isn't! I would know! I would _feel_ it!" Sam yelled back at him, tears stinging his eyes. Walking past Emmett, Sam headed for the front door, "His scent, I - I just need to track his scent...if I could just get the scent of his blood out of my system." he ran a hand through his hair, shaking his head, "Isn't it fucking sick, Emmett!? Dean could be dying somewhere and all I can think about is drinking his goddamn blood!" He stood in the doorway shaking from head to toe, hands clenching and unclenching as he tried to take in gulps of outside air.

Emmett strode behind Sam and pushed him out the door, away from the scent that had been trapped in the house. Sam wasn't the only one affected by the blood, though he knew first hand how much more terrible Sam's need must be. Twice in his long lifetime, he'd met humans whose blood had that addictive quality to him. Unlike Sam, he hadn't been able to fight off the urge to kill... to take every last drop of it.

Putting his hand on his brother's shoulder, Emmet tried to reassure him. "There wasn't that much, and Alice's vision... it did't take place here. We'll find him, Sam, all of us. I'll track, you... you follow." He meant Sam should clear his head.

"He's out there somewhere, Emmett... alone.... without me there to protect him." Sam muttered as he walked behind his brother, his steps leadened, though knowing he had to move, to find him, standing there thinking about Dean's blood was not going to help him find Dean, wasn't going to save him before Alice's bleak vision became reality.

 

"I know that table, Emmett... I've been on a table like that. If those bastards... if another..." Sam grit his teeth unable to finish the sentence, and unwilling to finish the thought.

Emmett shoved Sam again, this time physically pushing him to head past the neighbors and into the woods behind the houses. "This way... they went this way." An avid hunter, he followed the scent, half pushing half dragging his brother until the bloodlust left Sam and he seemed to come to his senses. Then they were running at the same pace, both of them tracking. There were several humans, and the metalic tinge of Dean's blood left a clear trail for them.

 

They didn't stop until the trail went cold, just suddenly seemed to stop in the middle of a clearing as though Dean and the humans who had taken him had simply vanished. Sam closed his eyes and focused on Dean, concentrated on him. _Come on, baby, talk to me. Tell me where you are. Let me feel you, know that you're okay._ a single tear rolled down Sam's cheek as his lids fluttered open and he shook his head, "I don't feel him, Emmett. I don't feel... anything."

"Don't jump to conclusions," Emmett said over his shoulder, biting his lip at the sight of his brother crying. It was hard to take. So damned hard to see him crying, whether it was because of what those doctor creeps did, what Dean did, or what happened to Dean... Sam was meant to laugh and play, like he used to so long ago, and like he'd started to again. 

Emmet looked around, sniffed the scent of petrol. "They took him by copter," he finally concluded, kicking the dirt where there were marks left by the helicopter. "Shit... shit... shit!"  
He took a couple more deep breaths. "I'll try to track, you go tell Carlisle," he went back to Sam and gave his unresponsive brother a hug. "Get a hold of yourself. He needs you now and you're not good to him like this. Go!" He shoved his brother, then ran the opposite way, following the faint scent of the petrol and hoping the copter didn't go too far.

 

Sam stood for another moment in stunned heartbreak, before making himself snap out of it. He had a job to do, he needed to do this. He had to find Dean. Dead or alive, he had to find him, he wasn't about to just let whoever took him do this without some retrabution... also, he had to _see_ Dean, at least one more time.

 

Pulling out of his stupor, Sam turned and ran back the opposite direction, back toward home so that he could tell Carlisle what he and Emmett had found... and maybe, just maybe Alice would have another vision, one that would fill in a few blanks perhaps... it was the best he could hope for right then. God, how he wished his brother Edward was here to read the fuckers minds, to know what they were doing and why... to...to... he wasn't sure, just having his brother, the one closest to his own age here, one who also loved a human, something told him there would be comfort in that.

 

Sam burst through the front door of their home, eyes darting about the room, falling on each vampire in turn, "They took Dean, he's gone. Emmett's tracking the chopper they took him in." Sam looked at Carlisle, shook his head slowly, fought to keep his features from crumbling, "I can't feel him, Dad. I can't feel anything." he added softly.

Carlisle crossed the room and physically drew Sam to the unused dinner table and had him sit down. On the table were two lap tops. Sam's and Dean's old broken one. Sam had said Dean had pretty much 'taken' Sam's lap top over. "Sam, if they wanted to kill him right away, they'd have done it at the house. They didn't bother to helicopter him anywhere just to kill him." At least not so quickly, the physician thought.

"Alice." Carlisle looked at her.

Alice bit her lip, giving Ros a grateful look when her sister put an arm around her. "Dean never gave up looking for the people who took you," she said so low, human ears wouldn't have heard her.

Sam looked up at his sister from where he sat at the table. "He what? What did you say?" Sam asked her softly, too softly, eyes slowly narrowing on her. Sam closed his eyes and took a deep breath, jaw clenched before he reopened his eyes again, "You knew he was looking for those bastards and you never told me!!?!!" he snapped, practically yelling at her, hands clenched into fists where they sat on the table top.

Alice lowered her eyes. It had all made sense. Dean had said that if she told, Sam would get involved, and then they'd be after him again. She'd never dreamed they'd be after Dean though. Yeah, if he went after them, there might have been trouble then. But he'd said something about an army. 

 

Sam's eyes moved from Alice to Carlisle, "I know why they have him," he told him flatly, "For me and for spare parts. That's what they were doing... with the humans there." He nodded slowly, "taking out organs and selling them. I heard them talking," Sam reached a hand up, grabbing a hold of his Dad's shirt in a tight fist, "I heard them making sales on the phone while I lay there open and bleeding." Sam told him, teeth clenched as he fought back a tidal wave of emotions.

Pressing his lips together, Jasper tried his best to send calming emotions to Sam. The problem was that Sam's emotions were so damned strong, they were impacting him rather than the reverse. Then there was the problem of trying to help Sam and at the same time look through the lap tops for information. "He's got so much crap in here..."

Esme inhaled sharply. She'd been going through folders filled with scraps of newspaper clipping, xerox copied pages and handwritten notes, and found a stack of clipped documents, all related to Sam.

Sam pulled from his chair at the sound of Esme's gasp, releasing is father's shirt as he did and walked over to her, standing behind her, he peered over her shoulder, "What'd you find, Mom?" he asked her softly.

She flipped through the pages, some of the microfilm copies. "It's all about you," she said, laying them out on the table. "Your birth. The whole legend about your healing abilities. How'd he get all this?"

"Ordered them from the library," Alice said, daring to move closer and pointing at the large envelope. "And the net."

"It's all history," Esme mused.

Carlisle pointed. "What's that list?"

Sam frowned, looking at the list Carlisle had pulled closer. "I-I think," he frowned harder, shaking his head, "I think I remember some of these names, from long ago." Sam pointed to one name, ' _Caleb Edwards_ ' "I think he was my friend. It's hard to remember..." Sam muttered, looking back at the rest of the papers, shuffling through a few and pulling out an old photograph.

 

Sam quickly looked over to Alice, "Do you have that drawing you made?" Sam asked her, as he looked back at the picture in his hand, brows drawn together.

 

"Yes, I have it..." Alice told him, as she hurried into the next room to retrieve it, then hurried back, handing it over to Sam.

 

Sam took the drawing and laid it out beside the picture, "I know him. He was the mayor of our town." He looked over at Carlisle, "If he was our mayor and he's still alive, he has to be... and there's no way he's..." Sam licked his lips and shook his head, "No. No way. Vampire's are involved in this?" he looked from the picture and drawing over to Carlisle.

"The vampire club," Alice winced, even as she spoke the words. "He said those... those chains and other equipment like that was being sold to them to hold vampires, that there might be a connection, or he wanted to trace the seller." She shrugged her slim shoulders, wishing she'd grilled Dean. "I'm not exactly sure what he was looking for, but he ... he seemed to be happy, like he found what he needed."

Carlisle let out a sigh. "I wish you'd come to me. Both of you," he said meaning Dean as well, but he gave Sam a quelling look. "I know why you kept it from Sam, but something this big Alice..."

 

Sam clamped his mouth closed on his words, not voicing how both of them should have come to _him_! It was his problem after all, his decisions to make as to what to do about these people. He could have kept Dean safe and Alice wouldn't have needed to of gotten involved. They could have all gone to Carlisle or he and Dean could have simply left Forks... anything. But, he said none of it.

 

"She didn't know," Jasper interjected. 

 

Sam frowned at Jasper, brow quirked. _If she didn't know, she didn't need to go there and put herself in danger. AND she didn't need to be keeping secrets like this one._ Sam was about to lean over and whisper those very thoughts to Jasper when the feelings began to hit him. _He was cold, very cold. Anger, defiance..._ Feelings unlike Sam's own began to bombard him as he gripped the edge of the table, teeth clenched, gaze staring off into nothingness as he concentrated on the feelngs, on Dean. It was then that Sam growled deep in his throat, a hand raising to his cheek.

 

* * *

 

"Fuck you." A meaty fist slammed into Dean's jaw, making him see white. He struggled against the the chains holding his arms and legs, tying him to the cold table. 

 

"I'd answer the question if I were you," a mild voice said. "Who else did you tell about our operation?"

 

"Yeah the whole fucking world. Mmph..." Dean closed his eyes, feeling blood streaming down from his nose. 

 

"You hunters work alone. You're alone, aren't you?" The one who'd been beating on him leaned over Dean. "You think we didn't get you on camera before? Or when you went to the fundraiser? Think you're clever?"

 

Opening his eyes, Dean shrugged. "Ever thought about getting a face transplant? That would be clev--" The world went dark again.

 

"Get the cold water..."

 

* * *

"Okay... here we go. The mayor's name was--" Esme's face jerked toward Sam, knowing something was going on with him.

 

"Dean... they're hurting him. Punching him. It's cold... so cold.." Sam gave a harsh laugh, "he's just being rebellious and angry... being Dean..." Sam looked over at Carlisle, shook his head, "He has no idea, does he? He doesn't understand what they are going to do to him if we don't get there in time." Sam said softly, brows raised slightly in turmoil.

Carlisle didn't answer, but moved over to pour over the papers with Esme and Jasper. "Search for the mayor's name," he told Jasper, after looking at the name under the recent photograph of that mayor, that Esme had pointed out. 

Alice shot out of the room and was back with another lap top, plugging the name into a search engine to see who this guy was. 

Sam paced the floor, looking from laptop to laptop, waiting. "Emmett...call, dammit." he muttered softly as he paced.

 

He continued to feel the punches, shared the pain of each one with Dean, but then his steps faultered in pacing. Sam collapsed down on one knee, hand gripping the back of a chair that, as his hand tightened around the metal back scrollwork, began to bend then snap off entirely, his hands falling to the floor as Sam nearly fell over completely, breathing labored, eyes tightly closed, a deep loud groan of pain leaving him.

"Sam!" Rosalie was bent over him and picking him up. "Sam.... what's wrong?" She glanced up as things started flying around in the air above their head. "Calm down... you can't help him if you don't calm, Sam?" The pain in his face had her shouting for her father.

Carlisle stalwartly continued searching for information. He couldn't help Sam, not unless he could find his mate.

Sam forced himself to open pain-filled eyes and look at his sister as items continued to fly, pictures on walls fell and smashed, televisions turned on and off repeatedly. Sam's body was shaking as he looked at his sister, tears in his eyes. "Hurts," he managed to whisper out, the word torn from his throat.

Taking him into her arms, Rosalie held him tight even as he tried to thrash. "Break off, break it off Sam, you know you can," she said sharply. "Now!"

Sam shook his head against her, "No....he needs.... me to....share it." He grunted out the words, as his hands that moved to grip her upper arms and tightened so much so that were she human, he would have shattered the bones. Sam pulled his head up from where it was tucked against his sister, tear streaks staining his cheeks, "Cutting him..." he shook his head, "he feels...everything....just like me." he whispered brokenly, just before one of the big screen TV's hit and smashed against a wall.

"No, it doesn't help him if you feel it. He wouldn't want you to," Ros practically screamed at him. "Stop it Sam."

At the table, they'd pieced together that Jeb Zacharia was the head of Zachariah Medical Lines, Inc Being a medical corporation it made sense that there would be a link in to the organ thieves. And the mayor... he'd have known Sam from childhood, would have known about his powers. He must have been the one to capture Sam not once, but twice.

"Mom, that card," Alice pointed. "Thats what Dean got from the club... the office." 

Esme looked at it, "its just that Zacharia's businesscard."

"Alright, we're going to have to find him and make him talk. With all of us, that should be easy." Carlisle started barking orders when Jasper told them to hold on.

"Turn the card..." Jasper winced, looked over at Sam, and touched his own chest and abs. His brother was projecting again. "... the card, turn it over." Behind it, there was an address.

Emmett burst into the house. "It... I couldn't track it. It disappeared at--"

"Half of us are going to the company headquarters, the other half to that address." Moving to help Sam get up, Carlisle spoke in a no nonsense voice. "Son, enough. You don't need to share his pain, you've had a lifetime of your own. Let's go find him."

Sam stared at his father for a moment, almost in confusion, definitely torn between letting go of the link, not feeling Dean and doing what he knew he needed to do in order to think clearly while they went to find him. Finally, Sam bit his lip and nodded. "I'm..." he glanced over at his brother and sisters, before looking back at Carlisle, "scared to let go." he told him softly, tears burning his eyes, even as he did as he was told, as he knew he needed to.

 

As Sam let go, all feeling of Dean, all pain, all knowledge of what was happening to Dean, slowly slid away from Sam, just as if someone had pulled the plug on Dean's very existance. "Let's go find him." Sam said with a curt nod, feeling more empty than he had in a very long time.

* * *

 

Dean's vision blurred. His throat was raw with his screams. He'd watched with disbelief as the scalpel cut into his chest and left a thin red line down to his belly. Then it descended again over the same line, cutting deeper, and the pain was unfuckingbearable.

 

 _Sam. Would Sam feel this? Oh God, oh God he'd remember, he'd relive... oh God please, don't let Sam tune in on me._ But he knew Sam would by now have found him missing and he'd be right here with him, right here reliving the past. "No.... fuckers... stop! God damned sickos..."

 

He'd shouted every insult he knew, while he could still think. Then he just shouted, and shouted, and shouted.

 

His blood ponded in the indentations of his muscles on his belly, dripping off him... he could hear it splattering on the ground. Someone started to vacuum it away, off him, and then he could see the damage clearly. He could see flesh and fat and muscle. He felt hands spreading his wound open, and almost fainted at the sight of his own insides. He wished he'd fainted. Wished he were dead. 

 

One the verge of passing out, the buzzing sound from a distance didn't scare him. What else could they do to him? And then he learned the answer as the round saw slowly lowered over his chest cavity and touched his skin, tearing through it, then screamed against his bone.

 

"SAM!!!" He saw darkness, impenetrable and final, and then in a distance, a flickering light... " _Mom... dad..._ "


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

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The set up at the address on the card was just like the other place Sam had told them about. Underground, basement level of a building. All of them could smell the faint scent of blood and medical chemicals even before they broke into the stairwell entrance because the elevator would not go to the lower levels without a special key. Carlisle phoned Emmett and his group to tell them to forget the Corporation headquarters and get back here. Ditching the car, Emmet and the others ran at vampiric speeds and joined the rest of the family very quickly.

A couple of the Cullens headed off to find another stairwell. Emmett jogged down next to Sam, touching his shoulder reassuringly. The scent of blood was stronger now, and he recognized it from the house. Damn... his brother was going to flip out.

Sam raced down, glancing at Emmett through eyes that had gone inky black at the smell of Dean's blood. Anger and bloodlust mixed inside the vampire, a deadly combination. Ebony met gold for the flash of an instant before Sam tore his eyes away from his brother.

 

The scent of blood, Dean's blood, seemed to have gotten even stronger, closer maybe and Sam moved faster to get to his beloved's side, until he was at a full out vampire-run down the remaining stairs and through a long, dark hallway. He stopped suddenly in front of one of the doors. The scent of Dean's blood was so strong now, it was nearly over powering, and it came from just behind this door. Sam reached out, grabbing the door, with a growl of rage, and finding it locked, he tore it from it's hinges, tossing it aside before speeding into the lab.

 

Human _doctors_ turned with fear-filled eyes, gasping in shock as the anger driven vampire stopped before the first _doctor_ he reached and grabbing him by the front of his lab coat, tossed him into a far wall. The others followed right after, their blood running down the walls from the point of impact and pooling on the ground.

 

 _His_ scent, the scent of _his_ blood, drew Sam's attention. Inky black orbs caught sight of his lover in an adjoining room, laying bound and lifeless on the surgical table, his organs laid out around him in ice chests like some kind of deranged bag of Christmas presents the _doctors_ had been unloading. The sob caught in Sam's throat as anger soared through his body like hot lava, his head turned as Sam curled his lips, fangs bared, a low deadly growl leaving him seconds before he lunged at the first _doctor_ groaning with pain on the ground, killing him, then moving onto the next before the others had a chance to respond to the horrific death of the first.

Emmett let his brother make short work of these monsters. His senses on full alert, "vampire," he whispered, just as the other Cullens filed the hall. Sparing a quick glance at Dean and each reacting differently, all but Carlisle followed Emmett out of the room to follow the scent and hund down the one... the vampire who had made and continued to make Sam's life a nightmare.

Seeing the bloody mess on the table, Carlisle was reminded of the butchers that physicians were centuries ago. No, this reminded him more of those who studied anatomy and who would pay grave robbers, in order to be able to cut a body apart. He put his hand on Dean's face, then pressed his finger to the side of his throat and finding barely a pulse. "We should put him out of his misery," he said, looking at his son who was covered with almost as much blood... human blood... as was Dean. "I'm don't think I can turn him now."

Sam walked over to the table where Dean lay, half collapsing as he reached it, his grief was so strong. Tears clouded his vision and ran down his cheeks as he reached a trembling hand out to run his fingers, though they were blood soaked, through Dean's hair as he always did to sooth him. "I'm so sorry, baby." he whispered softly, his eyes searching Dean's ashen face. Sam sniffled, never tearing his gaze from Dean's face, "Misery? He...he's still alive?"

Carlisle nodded, "He's... hanging on. He may need you to let him go. Humans..." He swallowed, then patted his son's back. "Tell him it's alright for him to go."

Sam looked down Dean's form, eyes reaching the shackles holding his wrists bound to the table. Sam reached for it, and ripped it off, letting his anger, his heartbreak, his brokeness feed his strength. Metal pieces clanked and tore as he ripped the thing off Dean, then reached across to do the same with it's twin before pulling back and reaching down to ever so gently, ever so carefully, pull Dean into his arms, holding him against his body. Sam buried his face in the crook of Dean's neck. "I know I'm suppose to let you go, but I can't. Please don't leave me. Please... I'll do anything. I love you," he whispered brokenly against the tender flesh.

 

Pulling back and gently replacing Dean on the table, Sam brought his arm up to his mouth, biting into his forearm, letting the blood run down over Dean.... but nothing happened. There was no healing... no instant forming of new organs... simply silence, save for the sound of a weeping vampire who's heart was breaking even more as his blood ran from his arm along with all hope of ever having his love alive and well again.

 

Sam shook his head, face contorted with the pain of his heartbreak, of his total brokeness. "No, no, please..." He remembered the doctors talking about using parts of him... about how there was something _in_ his make-up that healed...

"It's... too late. He's lost too much, his systems," Carlisle shook his head, "they've shut down. I don't there is even enough blood to turn him Sam. Do the humane thing, set him free."

 

Head snapping toward his father, eyes wide, Sam licked his lips, "No, you can't turn him, Dean would hate that... but, you _can_ use me. Fix him. Make him better. Please! For me! I've never asked anything like this from you before! Ros got Emmett, Alice got Jasper and now I am asking you for Dean! Do it!"

"I can't fix him Sam, he's human. He's almost gone. Even if I had the best equipment, there is nothing I can do for him. Believe me." He turned around to walk out and give Sam privacy to say his goodbyes.

Sam narrowed his eyes, jaw clenched, "Don't you walk away from me! You will fix him! You call yourself a doctor, fix this one! I don't care about all those other humans you fix! I care about _this one_! You don't need anything but _me_! Cut me open, take out parts of my organs... like they did..." Sam licked his lips, glancing back at Dean, "and when you put Dean's back in, I...you..." he looked at his father, bottom lip quivering, "I don't know how they did it, but they did.... and so can you! _Please_!"

Carlisle turned in shock at his son's suggestion, but he could see Sam was serious. "You can't ask me that. You can't," he grit out as precious moments slipped away.

"Yes," Sam nodded, "I can. I'm begging you to," he shook his head, "Not asking. Begging. And if you refuse... I'll try doing it myself, but I **will not** let him go!" Sam told his father, glancing at Dean as his hand closed gently but firmly around Dean's. "Please..." he asked softy.

A rare curse broke out of Carlisle as he walked across the room and pushed another surgical table close. He didn't have to ask, Sam was bare chested and on it in seconds. Dragging the rudimentary equipment close, he shouted for help. Just his luck... Alice, who looked at him with big accusatory eyes stood at the doorway. "Don't argue. I want you to start drawing blood from Sam, injecting it into this IV bag," he said, while he set the IV drip up and connected it to Dean's arm. "Hurry."

Grabbing a blue tinged scalpel made of the material they'd all learned about, he stood over his son. "I don't know if this will work. I don't know what will happen, Sam... if he survives, what he'll be."

 

Sam nodded up at his father. Whatever it was that Dean would be at least he would be alive. He had said he didn't want to be a vampire, but... this wasn't quite like making him a vampire... so as much as he could bear it, Sam had kept his word to never turn Dean. But he'd be damned if he was going to allow him to die. Not here, not like this. No way.

Then Carlisle Cullen worked as fast as his vampiric abilties would allow, cutting into his son just like those butchers who had held him captive had done, through skin, into his abdominal cavity.

 

Sam bit his lip, his hands gripping the edge of the table as he fought not to make a sound, fought not to run, not to fight back, fought to lay still, reminding himself _why_ he was there and _why_ this was happening again, why this time was different.

 

Blood gushed over Carlisle's hands, and he could barely see without someone vacuuming and sponging Sam's blood. 

 

Sam whimpered, his head rolling to the side, tears falling, but he continued to fight not to scream, not to yell, not to react as much as possible... but then, the pain seemed to intensify even more and it wasn't long before Sam's head tilted back and a ragged scream tore from his throat.

 

Carlisle cut a piece of his son's liver, about a square inch, then moved over to Dean and started to graft the piece to his liver.

 

As Sam lay there, open and exposed, he gulped in air, fighting to remain quiet as he whimpered softly.

Alice was used to blood, but not her brother's. And after all the nights he'd cried in her arms as he told her what happened to him, she couldn't believe she was seeing it first hand, that he was allowing it to happen, that their father was a party to this. That _she_ was a party to it. Tears pricked her eyes as she continued to transfer his blood to the IV.

Each time Carlisle thought he was losing or would lose Dean, the young man's pulse would kick up, his heart would fight for him, to keep him alive, to push his blood through his system, to oxygenate his almost dead organs. One by one, Carlisle grafted pieces of his own son's organs to Dean's, pushing the parts into their rightful place even as he heard his son's occasional scream. He thanked God that Dean's heart had not yet been removed from his body, but could not explain why Dean wasn't dead from the removal of the other organs. Maybe... maybe because he'd been given a little of Sam's blood in the past, now and again for injuries, maybe that had helped. 

By the time Carlisle was done, the floor was bloodsplattered, his clothes were soaked in red, and Dean was sewn up like Frankenstein, and appeared to be quite dead. He still didn't know if the human would make it. But after all the pain, the sheer torture Sam had gone through, Carlisle prayed this would work. "I'm going to take you home," he said, patting his son's cheek. "Then we wait." He couldn't answer the question in Sam's pained eyes. He didn't know the answer.

* * *

Sam lay in their bed beside Dean in his old room, watching over him as he had been the past three days. There was still no real change in Dean's condition. He wasn't as ashen now that he had been given numerous transfusions of Sam's blood, but he was still far too pale, dark smudges under his eyes made his lashes appear even thicker. He hadn't awoken, hadn't made a sound, hadn't moved, hadn't done anything for three days now and Sam was beginning to wonder if he was holding on to a false hope. There was the soft sound of a beating heart, but Carlisle had often said that with humans, sometimes the heart just didn't seem to know when to give up, even when all the other organs, including the brain, had shut down.

 

Sam pulled Dean closer to him as they lay there under the covers and buried his face against Dean's neck, "Come back to me... please... we fought so hard you and me. I gave you all I have to give... I don't know what else to do," he whispered softly, as he clung to Dean's form, arms wrapped tightly around him.

 

Sam sniffled and pulled his head back, lifting the sheet to peer at Dean's chest and abs, checking again as if to prove to himself that the wounds were actually gone. Lowering the sheet, Sam looked back up into Dean's face, "Does that mean that my blood can heal those who are already de--...." Sam didn't finish the thought, couldn't bear to say 'dead'. Dean just couldn't be. He couldn't.

 

Reaching up, Sam cupped Dean's face, slowly trailing his fingers down the side of his cheek as golden hazel eyes regarded him. He forced a sad smile, even as another tear fell, "So, what's heaven look like, baby? Bet you're the most handsome angel up there..." he leaned in, placing a soft kiss on Dean's forehead. "I won't leave you... we'll wait.... just a while longer... maybe heaven will give you back to me once God sees how much I love you," he whispered brokenly, his forehead laying against Dean's, eyes closed.

There was silence and darkness. And then Dean gasped in a deep breath that forced his chest up practically off the bed. His eyes fluttered open, and he sensed Sam... Felt him even before he saw they were practically mouth to mouth. "What's this? A 'rude awakening?' Kinky," he grinned, and tried to pull Sam close but was strangely too weak. "Can't feel your rude parts," he continued to tease, though he was disoriented. "Did you drink again?" That had to be it.

As soon as Dean spoke, Sam pulled his head back and stared down at him in near shock. He was.... alive. Finally, after three days of nothing... he was alive and... teasing and playful and... Dean. Sam's eyes filled with more tears, though he smiled down at him and sniffled, before leaning in to brush a soft kiss against Dean's lips. He pulled back and buried his face in Dean's neck, his hold tightening, though he made sure to remind himself not to hold on too hard for fear he would break him.

 

God had heard his prayers, had heard his thousands of prayers and He had given Dean back to him. "I missed you." Sam whispered softly.

"I don't remember the dream," he complained, put out, and reaching up to catch Sam's tear with his fingertip. "Was I out that long? You're so emo, Sam... I'm fine, and I don't want nurse Rachett." He was about to brush off Sam's fears, when something in the depths of Sam's eyes made his breath catch, silencing him.

Sam looked down at Dean silent for a long moment before he slowly shook his head, "You don't remember what happened to you? You don't remember anything?"

"No." He frowned. "I don't usually forget the sex dreams." Especially when it was due to Sam feeding from him. He started to sit up, when he felt Sam's hand pressing him back. His gaze went to Sam's hand on his chest, then back to his eyes in question.

"Stay still. Rest. Don't move around. If you want something, I'll get it for you... if you need to, uh," Sam blushed slightly, "do anything," he cleared his throat, "I'll take you. You've been though a lot, you need to take it easy. If my father were to catch you up and out of this bed he'd likely flip a gasket... of course Alice wouldn't like seeing either one of us out of this bed either but someone has to take care of you," he shrugged a shoulder.

"You're not letting me out of bed unless it's to piss? Okay fine, I need to piss. What the fuck are we doing here?" He only now realized they weren't even home. Refusing to stay down, he pushed right back against Sam's hand and sat up. "Sam? You look like hell."

 

Sam huffed, and reached out, grabbing Dean around the waist and pulling him back into the bed, "Dammit, Dean. Stay," he tossed Dean back against the pillows, pinning him to the bed, "still." Sam narrowed his eyes.

"What's the matter with you? Trying to pull some macho-vampire crap just cause we're at your place? Ain't happening." He started to shove, knowing there was no way he could budge Sam if the vampire didn't allow it... and he wasn't allowing it now. Putting more effort into it, Dean suddenly rolled them and found himself on top of Sam. Eyes locked, he wondered which of them was more surprised. 

Looking up into Dean's eyes, Sam slowly licked his lips, frowning. "How...? Dean, I think you should lay back. Carlisle needs to look you over. Something has happened, my blood and..." he let the sentence trail off, "I don't pretend to know what exactly is happening, but he might be able to find out." Sam turned his head toward the door of the bedroom, "Carlisle! Dad! He's awake!" he called out, before looking back up at Dean, "Please, just, lay back... for now."

"Sam... you're scaring me." Dean rolled on his back, next to Sam and looked at him. Stared into his eyes as he tried to focus his mind, running his hand up and down Sam's bare chest and abs, frowning as his fingertips found a raised line. Lifting up on his elbow, he took a look and was even more confused. Instead of smooth, unmarred skin, there were pink lines down his chest and across his abs that looked a lot like newly formed scars, which was impossible. He took a few breaths, tracing them, then looked up into Sam's eyes.

Sam reached up with one hand, pressing Dean's hand against his chest, stopping his tracing. "I don't mean to scare you, but you need to just lay still. You've been through a lot. Believe me." Sam told him as he gently pushed Dean back down against the pillows. Laying next to Dean on his side, Sam drew him into his arms, one hand moving to comb his fingers through Dean's short soft hair, now free of the blood from days ago. "I don't even know why you don't remember, but I suppose it's for the best, so that you don't remember the pain." Sam bit his lip and sighed softly, brows furrowed in thought. He wasn't sure what had happened to Dean's memory, maybe it had been the length of time that it had taken Carlisle to do the surgery. Had it effected Dean's brain? No, wasn't that only if or when the heart stopped? Dean's heart had stubbornly never completely stopped. Golden hazel eyes darted to the door, where was Carlisle? What was taking him so long to get here? Sam knew he had to have heard him calling.

 

The fact was that Sam _was_ scaring him, dammit. The silence... the lack of explanation, it made it worse. And why the hell was his mind a big blank? Sure he was always disoriented when Sam drank from him, but he'd never forgotten the stuff he'd seen and felt during the trance. "It wasn't a trance..."

 

Sam looked back at Dean, "No matter what Carlisle says, please remember that I love you and I did what I had to so I wouldn't lose you. Can you do that for me, please?" Sam asked him softly. 

"Save me from what?" He tensed, feeling like he was on the verge of hyperventilating. Forcing his mind to go back to the blank, to fill it, he leaned over and traced the line's on Sam's abs again, ignoring his request. "Someone cut you... sliced you..."

 

Sam had opened his mouth to answer Dean, to tell him a little of what had happened, that he had been captured, that they had tried to kill him, but ended up closing it again as Dean began to once again trace the light pink scar still marring his flesh. After he fed, it too would be gone, but he hadn't fed since losing so much blood, had only wanted to stay here, be with Dean every moment, to know when... _if_... he would awaken.

How. How could anyone have had a chance at Sam. Sam was a vampire, a force to be reckoned with. "The cuts.... surgical..." A shard of ice blossomed in the pit of Dean's belly. "They got you again. Bastards got you again." Now he was getting angry and worked up. "They touched you... sonova," he pushed himself up and swung his legs over the side of the bed. This was it, this was the last fucking time. Up on his feet, he swayed a little, and gripped a table to steady himself.

Sam shook his head, watching as Dean moved from the bed, then he was up and around the bed, over to Dean faster than human eyes could follow, steadying Dean, holding him. "No, they didn't get me Dean. My father did this to me..." he looked into Dean's eyes, bit his lip, "I asked him to... to save you."

"Don't lie to me," he started to shove Sam away, thinking he was protecting him from the truth.

 

"Dean," Sam started, tightening his grip on him, "I am not lying to you. You were captured. You nearly died... hell, maybe you did die, I don't know, but I begged my father to cut me, to take pieces of me to rebuild you, to mend what they had done to you. _They_ had _you_ , not me. I was with Emmett, Emmett took care of me, watched over me and made sure that I didn't go insane with worry about you. _You_ were the one that we were all worried about. My father and Alice performed the surgery. They did this... the only reason you don't still have a scar is that I bled on you afterward and have been giving you blood, but I haven't fed since then..."

Dean's chin jutted out. His mouth opened to argue, but no sound came out. "You let him what... no."

Though his mind rejected the thought of Sam being cut open for _him_ , he knew without a doubt Sam would do that, and more. He swallowed, looked away, and then the memories started to rush back. If Sam hadn't been holding him, he would have fallen to the ground. Fist slamming into his face, knives... scalpels flashing in the light... pain, like he'd never experienced before. He started to shake, lightly at first, then more violently, his teeth chattering as screams... his own... filled his mind. "Twice.... you... you went through it twice." his voice broke as he thought about Sam having felt Dean's pain, and then volunteering for more.

Sam held onto Dean tighter, shook his head, "Doesn't matter. Ros told me to sever the tie, but I refused. I needed to share it with you. Carry some of the load," he slowly started to back Dean up toward the bed, "finally Carlisle told me I had to so that we could go get you. Then, only then, did I cut off the link," he pressed Dean back onto the mattress, "it was worse than the pain, because I couldn't feel anything from you at all." Je stretched out next to Dean, wrapping his arms around him, "we, Emmett and I, walked into the room where you were and I saw you there and I lost it," a choked sob tore at his throat, but he swallowed it back, shaking his head, tears pooling in his eyes as he thought of the sight of Dean laying there lifeless, "Emmett let me kill every last one of them." He smiled slightly, "I wasn't kind about it either."

If what Sam just said hadn't made him happy, Dean would have told Sam to stop fucking putting him in bed. Instead, he gave a return choked laugh. "What about the chubby one... you gave it to him good?" At Sam's nod, he nodded back. "I told him he was gonna get what he deserved."

Dean licked his lips, still trying to grasp everything that happened. "What about Zaccariah? He was there. Did you get him?" If Sam hadn't, then nothing was done... the doctors would just set up shop somewhere else and keep looking for Sam for all time. "Please tell me you got him. Sam?"

 

Sam licked his lips and nodded, "Yeah. Emmett, Jasper and Rosalie went after the vamp. That vamp was my sire," he huffed and shook his head. "Anyway, Dad and I were left alone with you and..." he bit his lip, "I begged him, I pleaded with him to fix you. I started to think he was going to keep refusing me, but then he suddenly agreed. Alice was there, and she took blood from me and gave it to you while my dad cut me open..."

"Yes, I did. Much to my dismay." Alice pipped in from the open doorway, before she skipped into the room, plopping down on the edge of the bed, her golden eyes intent on her brother and his lover.

"I'll bet... it must have been like being on a diet and not allowed to eat the steak." Right, his joke was a bit flat but Dean's mind was still working on the stuff that happened. "Am I a vampire?" he asked them, his voice low and unsure, even as he pushed his finger into his mouth to see if he had fangs.

 

Alice frowned, "No, it was like helping some asshole torture my brother and like seeing his lover near death and knowing that if he died, my brother would be half the person he used to be." she shrugged a petite shoulder, "I did pretty good around the blood, seeing as I was mad as hell at Carlisle for agreeing and at Sam for allowing it to begin with." Her eyes softened as she looked at her brother, reaching a hand out to brush back his long bangs, "it was his screams of pain that were the worst though." She shook her head, "that brief glimpse at what he had gone through..." 

 

Sam looked at his sister as she touched him, then back at Dean, shaking his head, "I don't think so. It's why I called for Carlisle. I never took your blood, but you have a lot of mine... and parts of my organs, so, I'm not sure what it did. Neither was Carlisle... all we could do was wait until you woke... if you woke." Sam told him softly.

"You mean you're _inside_ me?" Dean smirked, "creative." 

Pushing the door open, Jasper shook his head and joined them on the bed. "Does everything have to be about sex with you?"

"It's a human drive... instinct, or so they taught in biology." Not everything fit right and tight though. "Arm wrestle me." He looked at all of them, waiting for one of them to take him up.

Sam looked from his brother and sister back to Dean, "Um, how about 'no'... for now, until dad can check you out." He looked up at his brother and sister, "where is he?"

 

Alice, licked her lips and folded her hands over a knee, "He'll be here, we were, um," she pressed her lips together, glancing at Dean before looking back to Sam, "dining."

 

Sam nodded, "Oh."

Dean shot Sam a dirty look. "Arm wrestle me, Goddamnit... I want to test something."

Sam frowned at Dean, "No. Now would you stop it already! Geesh, I tell you that you almost died and you want to friggin arm wrestle!? You're lucky to be alive! Your insides were all on the outside! Your blood all over you and the floor! Relax and stop with the playing around!"

"That's gross." He squirmed around then sat up. He didn't feel sick. A bit wobbly, he'd cop to that, but that was about it. And if his insides were on the outside... thank God he didn't remember. He looked at his hands, opening and closing them, but unable to tell if they were stronger the way he thought they might be. What if Sam had changed him? What then?

"Look who's awake," Emmett said loudly, diving onto the bed. "Let me know when you want to feed Sam."

 

Sam nodded at his brother, "Soon, probably."

Rubbing the back of his neck, Dean looked at Sam. "I've heard of close families... but they're in bed with us. _All of them_."

"Not all." Rosalie called from the open door, as she walked into the room and slid onto the bed, laying next to Emmett who was still in the same position he had been when he'd dove onto it. She smiled at Emmett, dropping a kiss across his lips before looking up at Sam and Dean, "Good to see you both looking more... like normal."

 

Sam smiled at Dean, "Could be worse, they could all be under the covers with us," he chuckled.

Dean snorted. "I don't think so..."

Giving Ros a grin, Emmett started to open the covers.

Grinning in triumph, Dean pushed himself forward and attacked Emmett. _This Cullen_ would fight him and help him get his answers.

Seeing the thunderous expression on Sam's face, Jasper pulled Alice back.

"Dean! Stop it! Emmett! Don't you fight back! Just... just friggin' play dead or something!" Sam yelled, climbing up and out of the bed, not blinking at the fact he was dressed in only his boxers.

 

Emmett huffed, "Play dead!?! What do I look like to you, a flippin' werewolf!? I am no **dog**! I'll go easy on him! Not kick his ass _too_ badly... just so I don't have to see you pout, buddy boy!" Emmett called back, as he rolled off the bed with Dean wrestling with him.

 

Go easy on him. Nothing could have made Dean want to win this more than those words. "Stay out of this, Sam, I'm not the one who gets aroused from wrestling," he said, between breaths as he and Emmett rolled away. With more room, he was able to start wrestling, really wrestling. His head started spinning, but he ignored it, scrambling to stay on top. "See who cries mercy..." Unless Emmett was kidding around, Dean had to have extra strength... or this would be impossible.

Sam stood near Jasper and Alice watching Dean and Emmett wrestle, anger at Dean's stubborn stupidity and his brother's lack of common sense warring with his worry that Dean would be hurt, had him looking from the two men on the floor to each of his sisters and remaining brother in turn.

 

"Dammit, you two, stop it before Dean gets hurt! Emmett, you hurt him and I'll kick your ass!" Sam yelled at his brother.

 

"Sorry, bro, but..." Emmett let the sentence trail off needing to concentrate on the wrestling match at hand. There was no way he was going to let a _human_ beat him. No friggin' way! Emmett started to slowly bend Dean's arm backward at an odd angle, one meant to cause pain and give him the upper hand.

 

Sam lunged forward, pulling Dean off and away from Emmett, at the same moment that Jasper entered the mess, holding Dean back as Sam attacked Emmett, throwing him against a wall with a loud snarl. Jasper held his hands out, palms flat against Dean's chest, "Dean, just calm down. Leave it be. You're just upsetting Sam, starting a real fight." Jasper tried to send calm feelings to Dean as he spoke.

 

Sam glared at his brother, eyes inky black and narrowed, "You are too rough! He's just a human!"

 

Emmett pointed at Dean, " _THAT_ isn't human!"

 

Sam snarled, pressing closer to Emmett, just as the door opened a bit farther, "What's going on in here?" Carlisle asked, looking from Alice to Jasper, at Dean, then over at Sam and Emmett.

 _That._ Dean's face snapped toward Emmett. He hadn't been holding back. A part of him had known he was different. Suddenly a bit afraid, he walked to the bed and sat on its edge. "I'm not an invalid," he muttered.

Shaking his head, Carlisle answered. "No, you're not. Let's keep it that way, shall we?" He turned to his sons. "Let Emmett go. Everyone either clear out or don't interrupt."

Sam slowly backed away from Emmett, eyes still on him as he did. "Don't do it again," Sam told him softly, before tearing his gaze away and walking over to the bed, just as Rosalie stood up walking away from it.

 

Sam sat down next to Dean and reached for Dean's hand as he looked up at his father. "He woke a bit ago, but didn't remember anything at first, I had to tell him what happened." Sam said, "I've been trying to get him to take it easy until you had a chance to look at him, but..." Sam looked over at Dean, "he's stubborn."

"Easy? How can I take it easy when I don't know what the hell's going on with me?" he demanded, glancing down at his hand in Sam's and starting to worry again. 

"Memory issues are to be expected, especially with the trauma that you went through. Do you remember any of it?" Carlisle asked.

"I didn't before, but I do now. Parts of it," Dean looked at Carlisle. "A lot of it is blank."

Nodding, Carlisle quickly and concisely filled Dean in on everything that happened. About his kidnapping, and how they'd found him. Then he described how they'd put him back together. "I wish we had a picture, Dean. You have no concept of the shape you were in, or you'd understand Sam's concerns."

Dean's mouth flattened. Course Carlisle would side with Sam. Before he could voice that opinion, the man was flashing a light in his eyes and peering into his ears, asking questions. "I feel fine, just..."

Sam turned more toward Dean, running his free hand up and down his arm, "Just let Carlisle check you out, alright? Please?" Sam shook his head, "I almost lost you," he glanced at his father, "We're just worried about your well being." Sam told him, leaning in to kiss the side of Dean's head.

Turning to meet Sam's worried gaze, Dean nodded, then looked back at Carlisle. "My head's spinning. Other than that, I feel fine."

"Are you hungry?"

"Yeah." Dean's eyes went round. "Starved."

"Someone go down to the diner and get him a chicken noodle soup."

"Soup? No... hell no. Pastrami, extra onions, fries... and pickle."

"Soup, and orange juice for later," Carlisle gave Emmett a pointed look, and his son took off out of the room.

"Sam!" Dean looked like he was about to stand up and stamp his foot.

Sam sighed and looked from Dean to his father and back, "Dean, if he says that you need to eat soup then you need to listen. My father is a brilliant surgeon and he just saved your life three days ago, I think you might show a little respect." Sam pulled to his feet, his hand slipping out of Dean's, and walked toward the door, "I'm going to feed. I think it's time. When I get back, I'll see to it that Dean eats the soup if I have to pour it down his throat myself," Sam said as he grabbed his pants and walked out of the room, pulling the door closed behind him.

Dean's eyes burned bright with resentment. "I am not your goddamn prisoner," he shouted after him as the door slammed.

Carlisle pressed his lips together as he looked at Dean, "No, you're right, you're not. You're free to go anytime you want to, but you might stop and think about that young man who just walked out of the room before you do. Think about how worried he's been about you, how much he obviously loves you and maybe about what he went through for you." Carlisle turned and walked to the door. "If you decide to stay, I can run more tests and find out if Sam's blood, the grafting of his organs to yours, changed you in some way and if so, how exactly. We also need to determine whether... this... your health will last. But, I think you need to realize what that boy went through. A vampire cannot be numbed for surgery, Dean. I had to cut him, I had to listen to my son scream in pain at what I was doing to him, because he asked me," he shook his head, "no, begged me to, with tears running down his face. He went through hell again, for you. Don't waste what he did for you, Dean. Sam was right... respect is due here, but not to me. To him." With that Carlisle turned and walked from the room."

"I get all that. I really do," Dean groused, looking at Alice. "I'd change it in a heartbeat. Tell him I'm not fucking worth it. I respect him, goddamit. I just don't like to be told what to do."

The sound of silence was resounding. Cursing silently under his breath, Dean propped himself up against the pillows and headboard and settled down. 

*

 

Nearly an hour later, Sam walked back into the room, the light pink scar that had run across his chest and abs was now gone and his cheeks held a slight pink tint to them. Sam stopped next to his sister and leaned in, giving Alice a soft kiss on the forehead, before walking around the bed, unfastening his jeans as he went. Pushing them down and stepping out of them, Sam laid down on the bed under the sheet on his side, looking at Dean. "What did my father say? Are you... um, yourself in _all_ ways?"

Dean shrugged. "He doesn't know yet. I mean I'm stronger, but... yeah, there are more test." He wasn't about to tell Sam what Carlisle had said when he came back. Sam would just sit there and worry, or drive him crazy making him rest. "Did you eat?"

Sam shrugged a shoulder and nodded, "I fed... well enough. What about you? Emmett hasn't come back yet?"

Nodding toward the mostly empty bowl, Dean answered. "I ate." It had filled him up, but wasn't what he wanted. Not that he expected any of them to understand, but he wasn't arguing about it anymore. A day or two of sick people's food wouldn't kill him. Ha, there was a joke in there somewhere, but too bad Sam wasn't in a humorous mood. "When can we go home?"

 

Sam sighed, "I'd like us to stay until we find out more. Until Carlisle has a real understanding of what has happened to you, of what _is_ happening to you. I need to know that you're okay." Sam told him softly, his eyes falling to look down at the mattress with the last of his words. He shook his head, "I didn't know it would _do_ anything other than save you." He looked up at Dean, "I couldn't let you go, couldn't say goodbye."

"We've had enough secrets to last us a lifetime." Alice gave Dean a look, and started for the door.

 

Sam looked over toward his sister, then back at Dean, brow furrowed in confusion. "What does she mean by that?"

Dean scratched the back of his neck and shook his head no, sidestepping the question. "I didn't want to die. I'm glad you brought me back." His gaze locked with Sam's. "I would be, even if you brought me back as a Vampire."

Sam huffed and shook his head, "No, you'd be pissed." He licked his lips and looked away for a second before looking back, "I don't know that it was an option anyway. I mean, Carlisle would have tried..." he shook his head, "I told him no." he smiled slightly, "there was so little left, so little of you left..."

"From what I hear, there wasn't much of you left either... after me." Leaning closer, Dean sniffed Sam's familiar and intoxicating scent, then whispered in his ear. "Thank you."

Sam reached up cupping Dean's face, his eyes closing as he leaned into him, "No, you never need to thank me." Sam told him softly, before turning his head, slanting his lips briefly over Dean's, "I'd do it a hundred times over if I had to."

"No... you shouldn't have had to." Dean put his arms around Sam and drew him closer before he could escape. "Kiss me properly. Ever had 'I'm alive sex?'" He asked, voice low and suggestive as he raised his face.

Sam smirked slightly and shook his head, "Can't say that I have," he told him softly, leaning in to place soft kisses on Dean's lips, "but," he kissed him, "you" he kissed him again, "need to" he kissed him twice in a row, "take it easy." He kissed him three times in a row, before moving his head, his lips against Dean's jaw, kissing him there. "We need to wait on sex until we know you're alright, until we're home and can get the chains."

"Mmm." God, it felt like it had been forever. Sam tasted so damn good, Dean didn't wanna stop yet. He ran his tongue over his mouth, still tasting his boyfriend. "I don't think we need them anymore," he said, voice husky, as he put his arms around Sam. "You saw me with Emmett."

Sam pulled his head back and looked at Dean, "Yeah, but what if it doesn't last? What if I drink from you? What if after all this I hurt you?" Sam shook his head, leaning in again to nuzzle against Dean's neck, "we need to wait until we know, or until we're home. I don't want anything to happen. And, it's too soon, you need to rest."

He did feel a little tired. In Sam's arms, Dean relaxed and slowly drifted off to sleep, but not before rousing himself enough to whisper. "Okay... you have till tomorrow."

Sam smiled softly against Dean's skin, "Tomorrow, huh? We'll see..." He placed a last soft kiss against Dean's neck. Tomorrow... he'd have a long talk with his father, get the answers he needed before he and Dean had this talk again.

* * *

 

Three days. He'd been practically confined to this bed for three fucking days, eating soup and other mushy stuff, having Carlisle check him out practically every day, and getting no sex. Dean was tired of it. Tired of waking up horny and getting only kisses when he wanted so much more. Tired of being reminded he'd almost died and that it was still a possibility. Tired of Carlisle's and Sam's worried looks as test results showed his blood and organs might not be functioning fully, that Sam's bone marrow had not yet taken over the job of producing new blood that would keep him healthy.

"So I'm kinda like a meat suit for a demon? You know, they can fall off a building and be fine, but once the demon's gone, they're dead?" he'd innocently asked, making the analogy, and then sending Sam around the bend for 24 hours. He must have told Sam he was fine a hundred times but it never got through.

Now, finally he was alone. No Cullens watching him in Sam's absence. So already dressed, he got himself off the bed, grabbed Sam's car keys and crept down the stairs. Esme was the only one around, the others were at school and Sam had gone to feed again. He heard her call him, but ignored it and ran out the door.

By the time he was inside Sam's car, she was outside, shaking her head. He knew she could stop him... no, no Goddamit, she couldn't because he was strong like them now. Even as he started the car and backed out, turning it and heading for the main road he felt a bit guilty. He'd eat fast and be back before Sam knew it.

Once he was in the diner, the smell of food nearly killed him. Oh God he'd missed real food so fucking bad. When he rattled off his order, the waitress asked whether he was sure. Then he realized he might have maybe ordered for four. He changed the order to a double cheese burger and fries and pie, giving her a smile as he asked if she could rush the order. When his coke arrived, he drank it all in one go and put the empty glass on the corner of the table so she'd notice and get him a refill.

Then his food was there, and as he took a bite of it, he was in total heaven. Eyes closed, he made sounds of approval, like he was making love to his burger.

 

Sam sighed as he walked up to the diners glass door, pushing it open. He could smell Dean even over the scents of food cooking. He should have known that leaving him alone was a bad idea. Dean liked to eat, and they had been feeding him soup, Ensure, and other health food for days now. Dammit, why couldn't he get it through his head that it was for his own good?

 

Stepping into the diner, Sam didn't even need to look around the room, turning his head he saw Dean sitting in a booth chowing down on a burger the size of his hand and so thick it was a wonder he was able to bite into it. No doubt it held bacon _and_ extra onions.

 

Walking up from behind Dean, Sam slid into the seat across from him, before Dean even had a chance to hear him or look up. "You really think clogging your arteries with that is the best way to heal after being rebuilt like Frankenstein?"

Eyes fluttering open, Dean didn't have the grace to look even a little guilty. "Sammy!" He grinned, "I got my food, and I got my sex toy... life is good." He practically leered at Sam, then took a huge bite, eyes never leaving his lover's. Maybe now that they were out of the Cullen house, away from the 'sick bed,' Sam would ease up.

Sam quirked a brow, "Sex toy?" he huffed and looked away, up at the waitress coming their way. As she stopped at the table to ask if Dean wanted anything else, Sam cut in before Dean could answer, telling her that 'No, he did not. Check, please.' Returning his attention to Dean, Sam was frowning hard, "You'll be lucky if Esme doesn't beat your ass when we get back... and I might just let her."

"For what? I was hungry, and tired of being in that room Foddamit." Working his shoe off under the table, he took a page out of the 'girls' book' and ran his foot up from Sam's ankle, to his thigh, and then lodged it between the vampire's legs as he innocently kept eating. 

 

Sam shifted in the booth, one hand reaching down and grabbing Dean's foot, stilling it. "Can I help you with something?" Sam asked him, brow quirked, features flat, unamused and definitely not looking 'turned-on'. "You are far too weak to be doing any of that." Sam told him, as he shoved Dean's foot back down away from him, though it was obviously done gently, as if he might break it with the simple gesture.

"Yeah Sam, there's plenty you can help me with. Lemme show you how weak I am, in our bed." He gave Sam a heated look and brought his leg right back up to press it directly over Sam's groin this time. "Let's get naked, let's use the hot tub how it was meant to be used." He remembered now how he'd been taken, and that he'd been waiting for Sam in the jacuzzi. "I want the time they took from us back... and you..." he rubbed Sam with his foot, his heart kicking up a notch when he felt Sam's reaction, "owe me a wrestling match."

Sam clenched his jaw. As much as his mind knew that he couldn't do this, that he might hurt Dean in the process, his body was reacting of it's own accord and making a liar out of him as he told Dean, "Not in the mood. Maybe later." Hhe cleared his throat, squirming in his seat, "Hurry up and finish that, or get it to go. I need to get you back to bed."

"I could get you in the mood." Dropping the french fry, Dean licked the ketchup off his fingers, then dropped his hand down under the table, right over his own zipper, squeezing himself and immediately going hard as he thought of sexing up Sam. "I could totally..." this time his voice was thick and husky, drawing a look from the waitress who brought the check too fucking fast.

Sam ran a hand over his face, thankful when the waitress brought the check. He reached for it, his eyes intense and bordering on angry, as golden hazel clashed with green. "Finish. Now. I'm going to pay for this. I'll be back." With that, Sam slid from the booth and walked, albeit awkwardly toward the counter.

Rebelliously, Dean squeezed himself a couple more times, though with his cock hard and straining uncomfortably against his zipper, he had to wonder whether he'd outwitted himself. Drinking the last of his soda, and snagging a couple of fries for the road, he joined Sam at the door. 

Sam glanced down at the rather obvious bulge in Dean's jeans that matched his own and shook his head, rolling his eyes as he pushed the door open. "You realize your blood could be better used elsewhere at this point, right? Like healing you." Sam huffed as he walked toward his car and stopping at the driver side door, "My keys?" he quirked a brow, holding out his hand.

Dean stared at him for a long moment. "I just want to feel _alive_." Slapping the damned keys into Sam's palm, he stared at him, challenging him. 

Sam stared back, his hand still held in the same position, muscle working in his jaw. "You _are_ alive. Let's keep it that way, huh? Maybe it's a game to you... but not me." He closed his hand around the keys, turning to unlock the car door. Opening it, he slid behind the wheel, "Get in." he called out, not bothering to look to see if Dean was doing as he told him but only reaching to close his car door.

 

Dammit. He got that Sam was worried. Got that he'd been traumatized by what he'd seen and had gone through hell to get him back. But brooding about it for days and days wasn't gonna change anything. Clamping down on his feelings for now, but not knowing how much longer he could take this without exploding, he walked to the passenger side and slammed the door shut. He didn't look at Sam, but straight out the window. "Bad things happen to good people. You just have to get past them and not let them make a prisoner out of you, or you let them win."

Sam kept his eyes on the road, didn't look over at Dean, his features firm. "Yeah, and when you have an eternity to have these 'bad things' weigh you down and someone offers you a small glimmer of light in the darkness that is your world, you grab onto it with both hands, treat it like the fragile thing that it is, because at any moment, that light can be blown out, making the darkness seem all the more dark, eternity all the more bleak for having been there." He shifted gears, "When you wait a hundred years for that light," he shook his head, "you're gonna have to forgive me if I tend to hide you away from every strong breeze that blows through."

Something twisted in Dean's gut. He peeled Sam's hand off the shift and brought it to his mouth and kissed Sam's palm, then holding it in his lap, settled back. He could be patient. For a little while.

Sam swallowed hard at the feel of Dean's lips on his palm, licked his lips and sighed softly as Dean brought his hand to his lap. "It's... it's not that I don't _want_ to do the things you do... you know that." A muscle twitched in Sam's jaw as he shook his head slightly, "I just can't... _we_ can't... not now, not yet." He turned his head to look over at Dean, "Let the fact that I love you and that we're together be enough for right now?"

 

"Okay, Sam." Dean nodded, humbled by the depth of love he'd seen in Sam's eyes and heard in his voice. "You know I love you too." Licking his lips, he cleared his throat. "For the record, you've got terrible taste in men." Yeah, he knew there were thousands of people out there who might be worthy of a love like this, and that he didn't qualify as one of them. He'd just gotten lucky. Damned lucky.

Sam huffed, the corners of his lips turning up into an almost grin, "Look who's talking, 'vampire lover'."

Dean started to grin, when his stomach seized. "Stop... pull over, pull over, right now!" He shouted, starting to open the door and leaning out over the asphalt zooming by under them.

 

Sam looked from the road over to Dean and back to the road, swearing under his breath as he tried to find a good place to do exactly that, pull over. Finally, the camaro jostled and bumped it's way to a stop on the grassy shoulder. Sam threw the car in park, and was out the door and over to Dean in the blink of an eye. "What's the matter? What is it?" he asked, fear and worry evident in his voice as he reached out, running a hand over Dean's bowed over back.

Dean immediately started spewing everything he'd eaten and drank, his stomach rebelling with a vengeance against the too quick introduction of solids, just like Carlisle had predicted. He'd gone on and on about having rebuilt his insides, and implied that his system was like that of a baby's at the moment. Fuck... they were all gonna have a hey day over this.

Heaving one last time, and rinsing his mouth with spit, Dean looked up at Sam through watery eyes. "Human moment."

Sam rubbed his back and nodded, "It's okay, as long as you're okay." Golden hazel eyes searched Dean's face, Sam's own face etched with worry. "I need to get you home. Have dad take a look at you. Do you need anything? Can I do anything? Water... do you want some water? I can run back...."

"Nah... I'll be fine. Home," he nodded. "Don't worry so much, I only threw up. You've seen me do that before," he gave Sam a reassuring smile. "Nothing hurts. Don't bother your dad, okay?'

Sam bit his lip in thought, sighing finally and nodded. "Alright... but, I want you in bed." Sam gave him a pointed look.

"Makes two of us, babe." Giving Sam a heated look, he quickly pulled the door shut, grinning from ear to ear as he imagined his lover's exaggerated sigh.


	23. Chapter 23

Sam sat in the stark white chaise lounge situated against the far wall across from the television, the PS3 controller still in his hands from earlier when he and Dean had been playing 'Halo'. He'd stopped mid game on their sixth round when Dean had once again brought up sex.

He was brooding again and he knew it, but he couldn't help himself. The test results that Carlisle had been good enough to run nearly every day continued to come back the same. Sam's bone marrow wasn't taking hold inside Dean. It seemed as though Dean's body was beginning to make his own blood again and with that came the fear that Dean would revert back to just being a human. Not that that would be a problem... _if_ Dean hadn't just had his entire insides rewired and remade. As far as Carlisle and Sam saw, the only reason, that Dean was up and moving, awake and breathing was due to Sam’s blood and his strength. If Dean went back to being a human, he could very well slip into a coma and possibly never come out... and that was if he didn't just drop dead wherever he stood.

Sam eyed the controller in his hands, hand moving as a single digit pressed the 'fire' button over and over again, though he didn't look up at the television, didn't care if the game was still going or if he was shooting the enemy. If he was lucky he'd shoot himself in his angry rapid button abusing and end it all for his player. No more worrying, no more lonely days and nights, no more eternity alone with his heart aching...

Sam sighed as he pulled his head up, leaning it back against the wall, closing his eyes. He wished there was some way they could take Dean to the hospital, run more, better tests... know for sure... this waiting game was killing him. But, it wasn't like they could simply walk in and announce what they had done to the world, or what he was for that matter. Instead, all that he could do was wait and watch and pray that every morning Dean would open his eyes. That he would be gifted with one more day, one more chance to love...

About to snap at Sam for stupid game tactics, Dean looked over and saw his vampire was lost in thoughts. Lost and miserable. Sam’s mind somewhere in pain, his heart being squeezed, and it was all about _him_. Dropping the controller in his hand, he stood up, his gaze raking over the man who'd shown him love.

He crossed the room and stepped between Sam's legs, putting his hands on his thighs for support as he knelt down to the ground, almost at eye level with Sam. Leaning in, he brought his mouth against the corner of Sam's lips, swallowing when Sam turned his face slightly. "I’m right here, Sam. I'm not going anywhere," he said, trying to get through... afraid, so afraid he wouldn't. Sam's anguish was coming at him in strong waves, and he didn't know if he had the words to make this right.

Sam took in a breath, grit his teeth and shook his head. Slowly, he opened his eyes and looked at Dean, his torment clear in the depths of his golden hazel eyes. "For now," Sam agreed softly, nodding.

Tearing his gaze away, Sam looked down at the controller in his hands and slowly moved to set it on the floor beside him before returning his attention to Dean, as he laid a hand on one of Dean's against on top of his own thigh. "And then one morning you could maybe just not wake up..." Soul deep grief shone in eyes that searched Dean's face, "then what would I do?"

"Not gonna happen," Dean's mouth skimmed over Sam's temple. "I won't leave you... I won't." He needed Sam as badly as Sam needed him. He couldn't imagine leaving him, he'd cling on, he'd do whatever it took. Even contemplate a deal with the devil, but he wouldn't leave Sam alone. Wouldn't leave him to brood throughout eternity... no way. He leaned in, taking comfort in the powerful thighs reluctantly bracketing his body.

Chasing Sam’s mouth, Dean kissed him lightly, even as Sam pulled away, but only a few inches... like he couldn't bear the separation either. "Don't be afraid. Baby, don't be afraid," he whispered thickly, catching Sam's hand and pushing it up under his shirt, feeling Sam's large palm spread wide over his abs. "Right here... Sam... right here."

Sam leaned his head forward, forehead touching Dean's as he turned his head away, eyes closed. He licked his lips as emotions warred inside him. Fear for Dean's safety, fear for his very life, sadness like he’s never known before, and the need, the over whelming _need_ to touch Dean, to let this happen, but knowing he shouldn't.

"Please..." the word was soft as a whisper, a plea, but Sam wasn't even sure what he was asking for. His free hand moved, raised, as he held Dean's shoulder, holding him off, even as the hand against Dean's abs flexed slightly, not wanting to move away from his warmth, his nearness, needing it like humans needed to breathe. "I don't want to lose you..."

Dean closed his eyes, and gave a little sigh as he leaned into Sam's touch. "Please..." he asked in the same tone, wanting Sam to break down the barriers, to let them have this moment... to stop holding him back. "Baby, please..." he managed to move his open mouth across Sam's cheek, sliding downwards toward his mouth. "Just _let it happen._ Let it."

Sam squeezed his eyes tightly closed, face contorted with the effort to hold back, before he pulled his head back, eyes opening slightly to reveal passion glazed eyes. "We do this and sometime during it, your blood takes over and you revert back... I break you or," a harsh soft laugh escaped him, "worse yet you simply die in my arms. No warning, no nothing, the life just slips out of you before I can even say goodbye..." Pain-filled orbs searched Dean's face, wet with unshed tears, "then what do I do?"

"Sammy don't..." Dean kissed him again, forcing the kiss this time and pulling back. "Let tomorrow take care of itself. We have this moment..." he swallowed hard, "maybe our _only_ chance. I could be just human again tomorrow... one chance Sam, one chance for us to have everything. Everything..." he leaned in, just as Sam moved his mouth away and looked up, as if he was praying for strength. No... no he wouldn't let him pull away, not now. Couldn't. Sliding his hand around Sam's waist, he used his other one to grab and move Sam's hand up and down under his shirt, forcing him to caress him... to feel him. "Let's take it... let's make it count..." he whispered hoarsely, trying to kiss Sam again.

Sam dipped his head as Dean leaned in, then looked away, his breaths panting out, chest rising and falling. Slowly, Sam looked back at Dean, the fingers of the hand Dean had been making him move against his body digging into Dean's flesh slightly as Sam grit his teeth, swallowing hard. Eyes filled with unshed tears, he shook his head slowly, "I'm so scared that you'll revert back and that the only fucking reason you can even hold yourself upright right now is due to my blood. If..." he pressed his lips together and closed his eyes briefly before opening them again, "the best I can hope for is you in a hospital bed with so many tubes going in you that I can't tell where they end and you begin anymore." Sam tilted his head back looking heavenward for a long moment before he slowly lowered his head, eyes intent on Dean's, "I want this as much as you do... _believe me_ ," he bit his lip, "but I..." he closed his eyes and hung his head.

"I know... I know..." Dean breathed against the soft skin of Sam's throat as he tried to get closer, as close as Sam would allow. "If that happens, Sam," he looked up, biting his lip against the image. "Then we'll at least have had this moment. Something to hang on to. If we don't... we'll regret it. I know I will," he said in a half sob, seeking the heat of Sam's mouth, wanting to be held by his strong arms, needing him like he needed to breathe.

Sam squeezed his eyes shut, face contorted as if in pain, though he allowed Dean's lips to meet his. In the next moment he was moving, pulling his hand out from under Dean's shirt, his hands holding Dean's head as he kissed him back hard, passionately with all the love he had, all of his fear, his pain, his anger at fate for doing this to them, he put it all into the kiss. His hands moved again, reaching for Dean as he picked him up as though Dean weighed nothing, pulling him into his lap to straddle him, Dean's thighs on each side of his, front to front, his lips still on Dean's kissing hungrily, demanding. Soft moans leaving him as they kissed and touched, his arms wrapping around Dean, digits threading up into his short soft hair, pressing him closer.

All the pent up emotions, the fear, the worry, the frustration and need, flared suddenly, like a flame striking dry tinder. Dean groaned as Sam brought him down hard over his lap, dragging him close so their groins collided. This was it... this was their moment to live, to have it all. Putting his arms around Sam's shoulders, Dean clung to him, body and soul, mouth to mouth, nothing to stand between them this time. As one hungry, almost brutal kiss followed the next, Dean understood how powerful Sam was... how strong, how he would have broken him into tiny pieces if he'd let go like this before. Dean couldn't control himself, and couldn't imagine what it might have taken for Sam not to let go before... all the times he'd restrained himself. Now, as Sam's iron grip closed around him, fingers digging into his back, Dean welcomed it. Moaning against Sam's mouth, wanting more, needing it so fucking bad. He strained against Sam, pressing his hips forward, Sam's aggressive push back making him groan again. 

The kiss semi-ended, mouths still open against one another as heads turned to allow Dean to take a breath before lips crushed again. Sam repositioned his grip once more, hands behind Dean's head, holding him still as his mouth nearly devoured Dean's, kissing brutally, passionately. His hips bucked against Dean's as groans left him, one hand fisting in Dean's very short strands of hair as his other arm moved, wrapping around Dean's body, pulling him as close as possible.

Pulling his head and body back, Sam reached for the hem of Dean's tee, tugging it up and over Dean's head, tossing it across the room onto the floor, before he attacked Dean's lips again, delving his tongue deep inside. It wasn’t enough. He pulled back again, sliding a hand between them as he quickly unfastened his jeans before wrapping around Dean, pulling him close as he thrust his hips against Dean's, moans and soft groans leaving him at the feelings raging through him.

Lost in the sensations of Sam's hands everywhere on his body, on his back, in his hair, pulling him closer, Dean's world spun out of control. His own hands went for the hem of Sam's shirt, and the vampire impatiently helped him, whisking the shirt off his head and dragging him close again. Breathless, Dean clutched at Sam's bare shoulders, doing the unthinkable and letting his lover 'drive.' Not even the trances he'd been under had prepared him for the intensity of Sam's unfettered passion. 

Feeling Sam aggressively push his arousal up against him, Dean groaned. "Clothes off," he breathed against Sam's lips, raising himself slightly only to find Sam's hands already at his zipper. He bucked his hips forward, needing the pressure and then his jeans were being pulled down to his thighs and he was free. "Oh... God... touch... me," he croaked, sitting heavily back down on Sam's lap and barely feeling the jeans cutting into his thighs, "baby touch me."

Sam wrapped an arm around Dean, dragging him forward, as his other hand moved between them, wrapping around Dean's arousal and squeezing gently, thumb ghosting over the tip. As he pulled Dean even closer, crushing their lips together, there was the distinct sound of tearing denim as Dean's jeans ripped, freeing him more. Sam's hand on Dean's cock moved slowly, pumping him in teasing strokes as his mouth devoured Dean's and his hips thrust upward, his arousal grinding against Dean's ass still semi-covered in denim.

"Guhhh," Dean groaned, grinding against Sam, writhing as a firestorm swept through him. One week ago, this was only a dream. But now, Sam was holding him close with crushing force, and was stroking him without treating him like goddamned china, and it was good... so fucking good. Better than any dream. He tangled his tongue with Sam's, stroking, battling, raising the stakes as he lifted up and drove his body down harder against Sam's arousal. A low moan erupted from the back of his throat. "More."

Sam groaned, tearing his lips from Dean's, his eyes opening to mere passion glazed slits, his fangs fully elongated and biting into his bottom lip. The blood pounded in his temples, teeth aching, the sound of Dean's heart beating filling his ears, pounding in his brain. He arched his hips up off the lounge, hands going to the waistband of his jeans to shove down them along with his boxers, freeing his erection before he reached for Dean and pulled him closer. His mouth seeking Dean's, open and hungry even before his lips slanted over Dean's, kissing him hard as he continued to slowly pump him.

Sam’s arm was locked around Dean, crushing him against him, until he moved his hand up Dean’s back, digits threading through Dean's hair as he kissed him, teeth knocking, tongues tangled moaning into one anothers’ mouths.

The sounds coming from Sam electrified Dean. Pressing his own hand behind Sam's head, he moved his lover's face back and forth just the way Sam was doing to him. Hot... so fucking hot, he thought he was about to explode. 

Releasing Dean's cock, Sam wrapped his arm around Dean, cupping his ass, trying to push him closer, his other hand still holding Dean's head as the brutally passionate kiss continued.

Feeling the pressure of Sam's hand on his ass, he lifted and let him drag him closer, until there was no space between them. Dean couldn't wait any longer and started to lift up and down, fucking against Sam, the way he'd always wanted it to be for them, so good. So hard... all his blood surged to his cock and he moved faster, his chest grinding and sliding rhythmically against Sams. Skin to skin. 

Loud breaths turning to moans. He was burning up. Sam was killing him, fuck... "Sam... please Sam," he pleaded, running his tongue directly over Sam's fang and cutting himself deliberately. 

Sam's body jerked at the first tang of Dean's blood on his tongue, his bloodlust riding him hard. With a groan, Sam moved, turning to lay back on the lounge, and pulling Dean down with him as he thrust his hips upward, grinding against Dean and sucking his tongue. His fingertips dug into Dean's back, his other hand tightening into a fist in Dean's short cropped hair, as a growl tore from Sam's throat.

"Oh yeah, that's it." Dean murmured his encouragement. He couldn't help the thrill that ran through him at seeing Sam like this, eyes completely black, hot, needy, and free... free to hold him, free to crush him, free to manhandle him like this, "just like this, just like this," he said, thrusting hard as he brought his mouth back to Sam's.

On and on, it went far longer than Dean thought it could. Then he wanted nothing at all between them. Tearing himself away from Sam, he shoved his own tattered jeans down, the corner of his mouth pulling into a smile as he felt Sam giving him an 'assist.' Then he was pulling on Sam's jeans, tugging them off and kicking them off the narrow chaise longue. 

Dipping his head down, he kissed Sam's chest, scraping his teeth over his nipple and licking before moving slowly up to his throat. When he found the place where Sam usually liked to concentrate on when he was fighting the urge to bite, Dean pushed the flat of his tongue against Sam's skin and pulsed against it, suddenly pressing his teeth down hard enough to break skin had Sam been human. 

Dean hadn't expected such an intense reaction from Sam. His lover bucked under him, giving an almost animalistic groan and gripping his hip and back so tight, so possessively, Dean could barely breath. All pretenses at gentleness fled, just like that. "Want you... want you so bad," Dean groaned, sliding one hand under Sam and lifting him slightly. "Want to be inside you... "

Breathing heavily, Sam swallowed hard, as his eyes locked with Dean's. He nodded, arching his hips, "Want to feel you... be one with you..." he licked his lips, head rolling toward the bed next to them before reaching over and tugging off one of the many pillows, bringing it back and using it to stuff under his hips to make a better angle for Dean as he pulled his leg upward, bent at the knee, opening himself up for his lover.

Inky black eyes locked with green as Sam ran his hand up and down Dean's back slowly, carefully, worshipfully, the first thread of gentleness since this had started. "Give us 'this time,'" he told him softly.

"Our time," Dean nodded, moving so his thick blunt tip was pressed against Sam's entrance as he hunched over his lover and looked into his eyes. "Love you, Sam." Dipping only his head down, he licked the seam of Sam's lips, looked at him again as he savored his taste, then crushed his mouth down hard. Nothing was gonna stop them now. Nothing.

He started to thrust lightly, adjusting himself and pushing inside slowly, trying to be gentle even when his hormones raged, screaming at him to split Sam in half... just take him. Groaning, and reminding himself of how much control Sam had exerted all this time to keep him safe, he vowed to give back. So he concentrated on how good Sam tasted, how good he felt under him, as he worked himself inside, cursing once when Sam tried to pull him down and make it impossible for him to be gentle.

The feel of Dean inside him, the fullness, the completeness, feeling this close to him... it sent sensations soaring through Sam, all of which pooled as heat in his groin making his cock leak where it arched upward toward his stomach.

He moaned softly, eyes closing, as he arched his hips, reaching for Dean, only to have him pull his body back slightly from his grasp, as he continued the teasingly slow pace. Sam opened his eyes, looking up at Dean, almost smiled at the thought, the knowledge that Dean was being gentle, trying not to hurt him. Sam shook his head, "You can't hurt me, Dean," he told him softly, reaching out and this time, successfully grasping his lover in his arms as he wrapped his legs around Dean's hips, lifting up off the lounge and thrusting back against him as hard as he could. "Want to feel you tomorrow," he kissed Dean's lips, "and the next day," he kissed him again, "and the next." a low growl left him as he thrust back again harder than the time before, "Now make me feel it!" he nearly growled.

Concentrating on his own heart beats to cope with the demands of his body and to keep his control, Dean started to fight Sam's efforts to pull him inside. But one moment he was about to protest, and the next, his cock was impaled deep inside Sam, and he was biting his lower lip as Sam's muscles squeezed around him. A sheen of sweat covered him as he tried to hold back, but Sam's demand made him lose it.

Giving his own growl, Dean went wild. He pushed deeper into Sam's tight hole, crushing his mouth against Sam's, one mind-drugging kiss following the next as he started to thrust hard and fast. He slid his hand down under Sam's ass, lifting him even higher as he pulled half way out and slammed back inside again. He'd give him tomorrow... and the next day. He'd give Sam whatever he wanted... anything... anything.

He was so thick and hard, it was almost painful, but he kept shifting the angle of his thrusts until he felt Sam react sharply. "I got you now... I got you Sam," he said, fucking him and deliberately hitting his prostrate each time he propelled himself forward. 

Sam gasped and groaned, eyes closing tight as his head tilted back, body thrusting back hard against Dean. His arms wrapped around Dean, holding him tightly, moving, never staying still never staying in one place long, as if he needed to touch him everywhere, feel everything, hold on to him as much as he could, as tightly as possible.

Dean heard something creak, and thought it was the chaise, but in a second it was obvious that things were flying around the room. Laughing slightly, Dean strained, moving his hips, moving his mouth, loving the feel of Sam's hands roaming his back, clutching his ass... it was real, this was real.

Sam moved his hands to Dean's head, digits threading through Dean's short hair, then his hands clenched into fists in the short strands, Sam opened his eyes, revealing lust blown pupils inside inky black irises. "Love you... love you so fucking much..." he crushed his lips to Dean's, hands moving again, arms wrapping around Dean once more, fingertips digging into the flesh of Dean's back, his ass, anywhere, everywhere he could reach.

Items flew about the room as Sam's emotions ran high, the new experience of being totally free to love without chains, without worrying; even the lounge itself rose off the floor a time or two, only to return to the floor once more.

Sam tore his lips away from Dean's, breaths panting out, as one hand moved to cup Dean's face, coal black eyes full of love gazed into jade green before Sam's eyes rolled back in his head, a low groan/growl leaving him. "Oh God..."

Seeing how close Sam was, Dean's own body started to tense. He rubbed his open mouth across Sam's a couple times, their tongues meeting briefly, before Dean moved to speak in Sam's ear. "I'm fucking you Sam. Like I want... ground zero," he said, straining as he fucked harder. 

_Ha! Ground zero was passed long ago. Ground zero be damned._ But Sam only thought it, didn't voice a word of it as he moaned out his pleasure, thrusting back against Dean, holding him tightly.

"I know what you want... need. Go ahead... take it, I want you to," Dean whispered, moving his throat right over Sam's mouth and not taking 'no' for an answer. "I'll stop you if it's too much... you know I can now."

Sam's eyes snapped open. _Why? Why was he doing this to him? Why was Dean offering something he knew he couldn't, shouldn't take. Dean had lost so much blood before..._ Sam squeezed his eyes closed, tried to concentrate on the feel of Dean inside of him, on the feel of his naked body in his arms. Fought not to think about the blood that sang to him as it rushed right there, under the skin of Dean's beautiful neck, pressing against his lips.

"Oh God, Dean..." Sam nearly sobbed as his bloodlust spiked up another notch. His lust and bloodlust were so intermingled, the rise in his bloodlust had his cock twitching between them, leaking precum, making him ache for release.

Sharply aware of Sam's internal struggle, Dean threw his head back, giving Sam better access. "Don't be afraid... I swear to you, it's gonna be alright."

Sam gasped in a breath, his lips moving against the tender flesh of Dean's neck as he did. A soft whimper leaving him as he arched his back, thrusting back against Dean, his tongue darting out to lick at Dean's neck. The combination of another few hits of Dean's hard cock against his sweet bundle of nerves, his own cock aching, leaking, his need to come so strong, his need for Dean's blood screaming at him, raging, riding him were Sam's undoing...

"Naagghh..." Sam raised his head slightly off the pillowed arm of the lounge and sank his fangs into Dean's neck in one quick movement, groaning and moaning in pleasure as Dean's blood gushed over his tongue, his balls drawing up at the same moment, heat pooling in his lower belly. With the first mouthful of Dean's blood he swallowed, Sam arched his back and came hard between their bodies, his spunk smearing between their abs.

"Angh..." Dean called back to him, squeezing his eyes shut at the unexpected doubling of the sensations he was experiencing. It took him a moment to unravel the threads... to realize what he was feeling was exactly what Sam was feeling at this moment. Sam's absolute hunger for his blood, his need rivaling sexual lust... making him see red... making him want so much.

Sam's need inflamed Dean, drove him clear over the edge. He moved like a madman on a mission, fucking Sam so hard the vampire really would feel him for days. His back muscles rippled under Sam's touch, his throat convulsed against Sam's lips moving so sweetly against him. He arched, crying out Sam's name as he erupted deep inside him, spilling his hot seed, filling him. He slowed down, thrusting every few heart beats, riding now on Sam's feelings... like an unending orgasm. _I touched heaven._

 _Don't all Angels?_ Sam's hands moved, shifted his hold on Dean, one hand running slowly up and down his back as the other continued to hold him close, his body thrusting slowly back against Dean's thrusts, their movements slower, calmer now. Items that had been hovering, or flying around the room, slowly started to fall to the floor, even as Sam gave a soft low moan of pleasure at the taste of his lover's blood, the excitement of quenching his thirst for Dean's essence. It was like a rare wine, like Ambrosia, like Absinthe, delicious, but not to be taken too often or in too great a quantity. The key was knowing when one should stop, when it was all Dean could endure.

Dean moaned softly as Sam's mouth worked against his throat. There was no pain, just the most erotic sensations he could imagine. _Used to call me a devil._ He was smiling, even if his expression of sheer rapture didn't change. _I'm hearing things... you in my head._

 _No devils, just an angel. **my** angel._ Sam's hand on Dean's back moved upward, cupping the back of his head, digits threading through his hair. _Hearing me... I am in your head, and you in mine it would seem. Mmm... did I ever tell you how delicious you are? Not just your blood... you're beautiful._

 _You're such a girl._ Spasming, Dean gripped Sam's shoulders and rode the waves. _Don't stop. Tell me._

 _Hmm? Tell you? Tell you how beautiful you are to me? How much I adore everything about you? Or do you mean tell you how..._ Sam moaned, shifting under Dean, gripping him tighter, _how you drive me to distraction? How sometimes I can't think of anything else but this and I have to fight with every last shred of willpower I have not to just take you, claim you, own you... make you my possession forever...?_

 _So you're not a... a... a_ As Sam's palm came down over the curve of his ass, Dean sucked his breath in and lost his train of thought for a second. So, good... this was too good. A part of him was afraid it couldn't last, but he clamped down on that part, not wanting Sam to see it, or feel it. _You're not a eunuch after all_ Dean teased, wondering how the hell he could have believed that Sam didn't have a sex drive or that it was nowhere near as strong as his. _Saved yourself for me._

Sam smiled against Dean's neck. _I did. Just for you. Waited a hundred years for you. So, no, not a eunuch... just lots of pent up sexual energy, I'm a bit leery to let it out on the world all at once. Might start the Apocalypse or something._ he teased back, tangling his legs with Dean's as he let them slip downward. Sam chuckled to himself, in his mind, _I think you might need to tell me when to stop, because I don't think I want to. Good God, you feel so good, taste so good..._ He gave another small chuckle in his mind. _I think that you might be the weapon to kill my kind of vamp, you know? We can all be wiped out of existence just by loving you so much it kills us._

 _Well I am a hunter_ Dean let Sam take just a little more of his lifeblood, and in the old days, he might have been reckless and let him go on. But now, he wanted to be damned sure he'd live. _Sammy... I don't wanna stop... but I think we have to._. They were so connected right now, physically, and mentally, he almost couldn't bear the thought of separation. 

Sam moved a hand, side of his thumb against Dean's cheek as he slowly caressed his cheekbone, then let his hand fall away. _It's okay, baby... I'm always right here. I love you, Dean._ Sam whimpered softly, fighting to do what was right, just before he pulled his head back, his fangs slipping from Dean's neck with an audible gasp. Sam's head fell back against the pillows, his eyes closed as he laid motionless for a long while, not saying or doing anything.

"I miss it already." Sam’s words were whisper soft before his lashes fluttered and his eyes opened. "Are you okay?"

Dean nodded, trying not to be sad at the break of their connection. "Yeah. It was incredible." He stared down at Sam, his mouth tinged with red. He should be repulsed, but all he could think about was what Sam felt when he tasted his blood. "I love you so much," he said, then did the unthinkable, brought his mouth down over Sam's and kissed him. His blood tasted different on Sam's tongue, sweeter, more like...

Eyes wide, Dean pulled up and stared at him. "Dude... cookies ... _I_ taste like chocolate chip on you."

Sam quirked a brow up at him, "Well, I swear I never touched the stuff," he frowned, "And you say I always taste like cookies... oh wait, maybe it's smell? feel?" he started to chuckle at the look on Dean's face, "Or was it that I _look_ like a cookie to you?" his eyes widened in mock horror, his voice rising as he continued, "THATS why you love me! You are going to EAT ME one night!" he gasped playfully and laughed.

"Yeah... that's it... one day I'm gonna eat you so good, there'll be nothing left." Laughing at Sam's inability to understand the complex flavors of a chocolate chip cookie and his intense love affair with it, he merely said, "Next time you're in my head, you need to see and feel what I do when I smell you and taste my on your mouth. I should have known I taste damned good." He shifted, sliding carefully out of Sam. 

Sam stopped laughing, sobering instantly, his gaze going intense, "You'll have to show me sometime." he said softly, the look of heat in his eyes unmistakable. To Dean's next words, he smiled, "I told you that you taste good. I didn't lie."

"You know you're lucky I didn't know how good it could be," Dean nodded. "Cause if I'd known, there is no way we'd have stopped before... no way chains were coming in... I'd have you at ground zero from day one." It was true, he'd have risked it all back then. 

Sam quickly gripped Dean's shoulders, one hand moving up to cup his cheek, thumb under his chin to force him to look at him, as Sam shook his head slowly, "Ground zero left the fucking building a long time ago and you know it. If I..." he huffed, fought not to get angry, not to get upset, jaw clenched, "If we had done this then, if we were to try this if you end up human, totally human... I would kill you and you know it. You would shatter in my hands like one of those crystal figurines." He gave Dean a pointed nearly angry stare, eyes narrowed, "don't deny it, you know it now as well as I do."

Dean was going to joke again but the look in Sam's eyes stopped him. Dropping his head, he kissed Sam's chest and made up his mind. Swallowing hard, he looked back at Sam. "If I end up human... or if it looks like I'm gonna... like I'm not gonna make it..." feeling Sam tense, he cupped his cheek. "Then change me. Have Carlisle do it. I can't leave you... I won't."

Sam had started to pull back into himself, not wanting to hear about Dean not making it, not being here, about how he might die, that this might not work after all, only to go completely still, eyes wide. Dean was going to allow Carlisle to... no. No, he didn't want that. Had been adamant about it before.... If Carlisle could change him, if it were possible then all this would be behind them, there would be no worry about... anything. Could he? Could Carlisle change him? Dean had enough blood now... hell, he had just drank from him... it was possible... Sam's lips started to curve into a smile, only to fall again as a thought occurred to him. If Dean reverted back to human, if he were to become ill, would his body be able to stand the change, the venom, would he survive the transformation? Sam bit his lip, wrapping his arms tighter around Dean and carefully rolled them, shifting his position slightly as he did on the too narrow lounge.

Looking down at Dean, Sam reached for his hand, lacing their fingers together. "I have questions," he shook his head, "so many questions to ask my father about that. I don't know if it would work if you became ill, I don't know about the venom in our," he paused and shrugged a shoulder, " _their_ fangs," he licked his lips, "but if he says it would work that it were possible... are you sure? I don't want you to do this for the wrong reasons and in say, a hundred years you resent me for it..." he bit his lip. 

"You trying to convince me not to do it?" Dean raised a brow. 

Sam slowly shook his head, his gaze intent on Dean's as he brought their joined hands up to his mouth, and Sam kissed the back of Dean's hand. "No. I just want you to be sure. And I want you to know that he might say that he can't. It was something he and I argued...um, went over," Sam looked away for a brief moment, then looked back, "where we found you."

"Worry about that later. Live in the moment, Sam," he squeezed his lover's hand. "It's a _damned good_ moment." 

Though he was under Sam, Dean stretched to the best of his abilities, laughing. "What do you want to do for the next three... twelve... twenty-four hours?" His eyes held a mischievous gleam. "I'm up for anything involving hot naked sex. Oh, and chocolate... hungry. You gave me a workout."

Sam shook his head, "You sure you're up for it? I don't want to wear you out too much... hurt you." He frowned, his eyes darting down to look over Dean's form, before meeting his eyes again. "Anything hurt? Are you dizzy? Feel sick at all?" Sam asked him, golden hazel eyes full of worry.

Dean repeatedly shook his head 'no' to all the questions, fighting not to laugh. "I'm fine... hell, I'm feeling fuckin' great."

"Chocolate?" Sam made a face, " _That'll_ make you sick! I gotta get you to try blood sometime." Sam grinned.

"Remember the puking in your car? Yeah... not a good image." But he had to say it anyway. If Sam was gonna try to get him grossed out, he would return the favor. "Sam." He sobered, as it hit him like a ton of bricks again. "We _did it._ And it wasn't a dream, or a trance... we did it." Lifting his head up, he kissed his lover again, bringing his arms around him, wishing they were in each others' minds again... but sure it would happen.

"Yeah," Sam nodded as the kiss ended, "we did it." he smiled slightly, his cheeks tinting a soft shade of pink as he looked at Dean. He cleared his throat and looked away, "Told you vampire's didn't have to wait." he mumbled.

"Hmm? Oh, right... you got to eat, so never mind if Dean's hungry," Dean teased him. "Can we move to the bed? I want you against the headboard." Feeling Sam's arousal, he was sure he'd catch up in a few minutes. "After..." this time he choked at the image he'd been holding in his mind for so long. "After you suck my dick for real. None of that phone sex bullshit." It felt good to be free, so good. "Oh... but I still like dirty talk."

Sam frowned as he looked at Dean, "You're awfully demanding. I'll go get you more soup while you move to the bed. But, I can't talk during..." Sam paused and waved a hand wiggling his fingers, not saying 'the word', "it blows my concentration." He pushed himself up then, intent on getting himself a pair of jeans so he could go get Dean soup and orange juice.

"Uh uh," Dean wrapped his fingers around Sam's bicep and got up with him. "Food later, sex now. Start talking... I won't bug you about it 'during,'" he grinned. "I'll do all the talking then."

Sam frowned, "But I thought you wanted," he sighed, "Yeah, we need to work on this mind thing. Maybe I can bite you and just take tiny sips every so often..." he frowned harder and shook his head at the impossibility as he pulled to his feet, wrapping his arms around Dean as he stood.

"So, I start the dirty talk now, huh? Hmm... so like, what? You want me to tell you about how I was thinking of actually trying out your suggestion," he narrowed his eyes, "and it was a _suggestion_ , about sucking you... how I'm going to hold your hips down to the bed and make you just lay there and take as little or as much as I give. I was kinda thinking of starting out slow... very slow. Just licking my way around the tip, up your length, back down... maybe, flick my tongue along the side while I move my hand on you really slow...."

"Sam!!! Can you two cut it out!?!" Alice's voice sounded through the door. "You're wearing Jasper out!"

"Don't stop," Dean practically whined as they walked toward the bed, plastered to each other, feeling the proof of each others' arousal. "Don't listen to her, she's evil..." He was really afraid Sam would go all soft hearted and take pity on Jasper. "They should be thanking us, goddamit." He fell backwards onto the bed, pulling Sam with him and making a sound as Sam's weight pressed into him. "Tell me what you're gonna do when my cock starts leaking and when I beg you to let me fuck you. Tell me how you'll take me in your mouth so deep..." The knock on the door had him cursing. He never saw the knob turning.

* * *

Since it was Dr. Cullen's day off, Dean was allowed to sleep in... and boy did he need it after their marathon sex session. But now that it was midmorning, he was in Carlisle's office, sitting on a chair next to Sam, and nervously rubbing his hands up and down his jean clad thighs.

Carlisle looked up from the microscope, looked over at Dean, then peered through the lens again.

Dean looked over at Sam, hardly breathing.

Sam looked from Carlisle over to Dean, reached out and took Dean's hand in his. "What is it, Dad? What's wrong?" Sam asked, between bouts of worrying his bottom lip. "Is.." Sam glanced over at Dean again, "is Dean getting worse?" his grip tightened slightly on Dean's hand as they waited for an answer.

"Dean," Carlisle began, still not looking up, "what did you do last night?"

Sam swallowed hard and looked over at Dean. No... no... no...they'd made it worse. They never should have... Sam bit his lip.

"N...nothing." He licked his lips and straightened when Carlisle did finally look up at him with his piercing stare.

Sam elbowed Dean in the ribs as he kept his gaze on his father. It wasn't the truth and Dean knew it.

"You did nothing... new?" Carlisle asked him.

Making a face at Sam, Dean muttered under his breath. "I fucked your--" Another elbow to his ribs had him practically cursing. He cleared his throat. "I... _made love_ to your son." He felt the heat creep up the back of his neck and shot Sam a dirty look, like he'd get him later.

Carlisle looked from Dean to Sam and back, "I see." he said before bending again to look back into the microscope, "Interesting."

"Samuel," Carlisle began... he never called Sam Samuel unless Sam was in deep trouble. Sam actually started to slide down in his chair. "Y- yes, sir?"

"What did _you_ do last night?" Carlisle asked him.

Sam frowned and looked over at Dean, before looking back at his father, "Excuse me?"

Carlisle looked up from the microscope, his gaze piercing, "Did you bite him, Sam? Did you bite Dean?"

Sam hung his head, nodding. Muttering out a "Yes sir." 

"I told him to," Dean jumped in, fiercely protective, and putting his hand defiantly over Sam's. "He's a vampire... he's supposed to do these... things."

Carlisle looked over at Dean, the smallest trace of a smirk starting at the corner of his lips flashed for an instant and was gone as he nodded, "Yes, thank you, Dean. I know what a vampire does." He glanced back over at his son, before moving to pull out his chair behind his desk and taking a seat. Golden eyes darted between the two, "There has been a definite change," he paused, "Sam sit up." He cleared his throat opening his mouth to continue, only to close it again as he was interrupted by Sam.

"Did we make it worse? I knew we shouldn't have done anything. I tried to tell him! I knew he wasn't strong enough! I..." Sam stopped, as he leaned back in his chair, hand covering his face. Sam fought back emotions, the panic that gripped him. Dean was going to die and it was all his fault. All because they had...

"Are you finished, Sam?" Carlisle asked him calmly.

"I am - not - sorry we did it," Dean muttered, snatching his hand back. Nothing could make him sorry for it, nothing. Maybe it hadn't been the best time in Sam's long-assed-life, but it had in Dean's. 

Carlisle sighed, "No one needs to be sorry about anything. Actually, it seems to have helped... somehow."

Sam pulled his hand from his face, eyes wide as he stared at his father, then looked over at Dean, before looking back at his father again and sitting forward, "What?"

Though he was still pissed off at Sam, Dean leaned forward and paid attention. 

"You took his blood, and yet your blood is now flowing through his veins." He looked at Dean. "Congratulations. Either the bone marrow transplant finally took, or Sam's venom, for lack of a better word since we know it actually puts one in a trance rather than killing, triggered something... got it to work."

Then Carlisle started to spew stuff in medical terms and Dean's eyes started to glaze over. He wasn't about to interrupt Sam's dad, but you know, he could have stopped at 'you'll be fine.'

Sam smiled half way through his dad's rant and started to get up, "Uh, dad, I think that Dean should eat something and we need to study and uh, well, I think I remember promising to wrestle Emmett today, so we need to go, thanks for everything." He tugged on Dean's shirt as he stepped around his chair and started backing toward the door. "Love ya, dad, thanks." Sam mumbled as he practically shoved Dean out the door.

In the hall, Sam shook his head, "Sorry, but if I didn't do that, we'd be there until we were both dead." he rolled his eyes.

"I died five minutes ago. _Shit!_ " he just realized Carlisle probably heard. Hanging out with vampires was difficult. He looked up and poked Sam in the chest, hard. "For your information, last night was the best time of my life. Don't cheapen the moment. Ever." He spoke each word distinctly, without any trace of humor.

Sam frowned down at the finger poked into his chest, before he looked back up Dean. "I never said it wasn't wonderful, but between that and you dying..." Sam shook his head, "I'd take having you here, with me. It doesn't cheapen anything, Dean. Not even a little bit, and yeah, last night was..." he licked his lips, shook his head as he took a step closer to Dean, reached a hand out, placing it against Dean's side, up under the hem of his tee so that skin touched skin. He leaned in, brushing his lips across Dean's. "Magic." he mumbled softly, as he walked them backward until Dean's back hit the wall.

He wanted to argue... maybe even just for the sake of arguing... but once Sam called their night 'magic' and touched him exactly the same way Dean had practically forced him to when he'd begged Sam not to be afraid to love him, all he could do was whimper and look back at him through eyes starting to darken slightly.

Sam reached for Dean's hands, the hand he'd had at Dean's side slipping away, as he laced their fingers of both hands together and lifted their arms, pinning Dean's arms against the wall on each side of his head. Passion glazed dark golden eyes raked over Dean as he stood like that and Sam's eyes darkened to inky black immediately. He pressed himself against Dean, his groin against Dean's hip, his arousal evident, even before the low moan escaped him as he lowered his head slightly, leaning his forehead against Dean's, licked his lips. "Okay, I gotta stop, before I go nuts here in my family's hall way." He muttered softly, voice husky with arousal.

Dean's heart was already banging against his chest. He tried to move away from the wall, to hold Sam, but only managed to arch away from it since Sam had his hands pinned. The hard knot of Sam's erection pressing into him was wreaking havoc with his senses and he had to fucking wonder who the virgin had been in this relationship, cause right now... "A kiss wouldn't hurt," Dean answered, slanting his mouth but unable to reach Sam's since his lover was using his forehead to hold him against the wall. A frustrated laugh escaped him, then he stuck his tongue out, almost touching Sam's lips.

Sam sighed, a smile pulling at his lips, "Wouldn't _help_ , either," he murmured softly. As Dean stuck his tongue out, Sam moved his head, capturing Dean's tongue between his lips and sucking, pulling back and sucking more, another low moan escaping as he ground his hips against Dean.

"Oh God, not again!" Alice sighed, "Well, at least this time I'm not getting an eyeful of ass when I walk in on you two. That was just... disturbing... on many levels." She visably shuddered as she grinned and continued down the hall past them. "Oh, Mom's behind me," she called over her shoulder with a small snicker.

About to ignore her, the word 'mom' sank through his lust-hazed mind and Dean panicked. "Get off me, Sam... mom." He struggled to push Sam away, coughing and straightening his clothes once Sam let him go. "Mornin' he mumbled as Esme appeared with a bright smile for both of them. "You boys keep it up and Jasper is never coming out of the bathroom."

Sam all but choked, trying not to laugh. "Really?" he asked her eyes wide, "Oh man, I gotta see this!" he turned hurrying down the hall toward the bathroom so he could make fun of his brother from outside the door.

Dean looked down at his arousal straining against his jeans, then at Sam's back, down the hall, and shook his head. "Someone's got his priorities mixed." Knowing that there would be an hour of horseplay between the brothers, he headed for the kitchen, stopping by the door and looking back. "Oh, and Sam? I _never_ want to see another bowl of soup... ever." Grinning, he walked inside and helped himself to a bowl of cereal. The coffee, he'd have to learn to make on their high tech unused equipment.

Sam nodded as he walked, waving a hand over his shoulder, his attention focused on the revenge to be had. Oh this was going to be priceless. He wondered absently what Edward would give him for getting back at one of the fruitloops who had made their life a living hell....?

* * *

Less than a week later, they'd moved back to Dean's place. The Cullens had not only cleaned up the mess from when he had been kidnapped, but they'd added some more of their 'artistic touches' and a brand new flatscreen that was bigger than the one Jasper broke. Though he wanted to, Dean couldn't find a reason to bitch because if he had, they might take the stuff back. They just didn't get the concept of privacy and maybe he was just gonna have to accept that.

Sam had practically forced him to do all of his make-up work for school in two days, but after he'd turned it in, he'd been happy about not having anything to worry about. Still... it had been a mistake to tell the vampire that it was his own unspoken promise to his mother that kept him in school, and his need to get a senior photo with a graduation cap as the twelfth picture in the picture frame his mom had bought. Now Sam would be on him all the time about school.

So now, Dean was home, and since his old broken laptop had 'somehow' been destroyed, Sam had gotten him a new one. He was still not used to anyone buying stuff for him, or taking care of the bills but they'd had a talk, or two, about being a family. Sitting on the bed, holding a pencil lengthwise in his mouth, he continued to search for information on the other humans who'd been part of the organ stealing scheme. He wasn't gonna let this rest, not until every last one of them was taken care of.

Sam leaned against the doorway, arms crossed over his chest, brow quirked as he watched Dean silently for a few moments. Pulling away from the doorframe and letting his arms drop to his sides, Sam walked over to the bed and sat down, sliding in behind Dean, peering over his shoulder at the computer screen. "Um, I thought we were partners in this... no secrets." Sam asked him softly, breath ghosting over Dean's ear.

"We are." Dean was short with him, and trying his best to ignore the awareness washing over him at Sam's closeness.

"We are." Sam nodded his head slightly, though he didn't sound convinced. "Then what are you doing looking at this without telling me about it? I told you, we took care of them. It's over." He wrapped an arm around Dean's waist, holding him close, "I don't..." Sam sighed and lowered his head, dropping a kiss on Dean's shoulder, "I think you went through enough alone."

He'd been expecting anger and had been prepared to deal with it, but he wasn't immune to this tactic. Goddamit, Sam was a quick learner. Leaning back against Sam's chest, he looked over his shoulder at him. "Just... just taking care of some loose ends. People who profited from the operation. Don't have to worry, they're human and I'm not 'glass' anymore." Maybe two could play at these tactics. Smiling, he kissed Sam's exposed collarbone. 

Sam reached out with his free hand and closed the laptop, "You'll always be 'glass' to me. Precious, something to be handled with care, with love. And you need to let me in on these things." Sam told him, as he looked at him, giving him a pointed look. "Promise me?" he smiled slightly, "I can do a bite test if I don't believe you."

Dean groaned. Getting away with lying was harder since Sam could read his mind during bloodplay. And right now, despite the playful words, the way Sam was looking at him, like he could see clear to his soul, told Dean Sam meant it. He nodded. "Like I said... loose ends. I'm just gathering enough evidence about the organ stealing to do the police's job for them. I'm gonna mail it to the authorities. See? No danger."

Sam frowned, but after a few moments nodded, "Okay." he reached back with a free hand and pulled out newspaper clippings from his back pocket, "I guess I can tell you about these then and not go off and take care of them on my own." The corners of his lips turned up into an almost teasing smile.

The clippings talked about an animal attack in the woods of Oregon, claw marks and missing hearts. "I did some research," Sam went on, quirking a brow at Dean, "See? You're not the only one who can be sneaky. And it seems that it might be a werewolf. Not like the ones on the reservation though, these are different." He shrugged a shoulder, "I didn't realize there were different ones, but I guess if there are different types of vampires, why not werewolves, huh?" he handed Dean the clippings.

Eyebrows raised, Dean took the clippings but searched Sam's face. He was serious. A grin split Dean's face. "Okay... okay hunting partner," he nodded. Yeah, this was gonna work. "Soon as school is fucking over, I'm taking you on a road trip. We'll have sex, kill things, have sex, save people, drink, have sex... maybe we should practice the sex bit now." 

Sam fought back the chuckle that wanted to spill out, "Really? You think I need more practice? Not up to 'All the way Dean's' standards?" he gave an exaggerated sigh and let himself fall over sideways on the bed, "Fine. Teach me, oh master," he mocked, rolling his eyes.

"Oh, you know about 'that'?" He gave Sam a look that was a cross between sheepish and smug, and dropped the laptop to the ground next to the bed. Twisting around and straddling Sam's waist, he used one hand to start unbuttoning Sam's shirt. "Maybe I'm just rusty, and need practice. For a while there, I though I was turning into 'Never getting any, Dean.'"

Sam's face fell a little at that. "Yeah, sorry, about that... glass..." he said softly.

It was the fucking truth. His gaze dropped to Sam's chiseled chest, taking Dean's breath away. "Promise me this isn't ever gonna change." He met Sam's eyes. "Always be like this between us."

Sam shook his head, "I can't imagine it any other way. Always, forever.... eternity," he smirked softly, "think you can handle that? And eternity of this? I mean, even 'All the way Dean' has to get tired of it _sometime_ ," he chuckled, running his hands up and down Dean's jean clad thighs.

"Don't hold your breath, Sammy." The instant the words were out, he dropped over his vampire, laughing against his chest. "I mean... don't wait until your next feeding." Happy, safe, and starting to get hella horny, he started to move his hips around, rubbing himself against Sam just so... and then he felt Sam's erection. "Ignition," he shouted, leaning over and flipping the switch on their stereo, and started making love to Sam to Metallica playing loudly over the surround system.

 

* * * 

Months past, and finally it was June, time for Graduation.

Sam and Dean rode together to the school in the Impala, Sam already dressed in his cap and gown, much to Dean's amusement. Sam however had only smiled at him and shook his head, telling him he had reasons why he did what he did.

They sat now among the other students in the gymnasium, and thankfully they had gotten to sit together, the idea for alphabetical order seating had gone out the window as soon as half the football team stopped listening to the idea, sitting with their girlfriends instead. 

As the Principal droned on and on about the future and how these 'fine students' would impact the world in the name of Forks High, Sam leaned over, his mouth near Dean's ear as he took Dean's hand in his, moving it onto his lap. "I'm naked under this gown." Sam whispered softly, breath ghosting over Dean's ear, as he moved Dean's hand to his groin covered only by the thin layer of royal blue satin. 

Dean's back went ramrod straight as he fought the urge to press his palm down harder. His breath caught in his throat when he used his thumb to see if Sam was telling the truth, rubbing it slowly up and down Sam's shaft... totally free of briefs. Mind freeze. He stopped hearing the principal, stopped seeing the students or worrying about when they could get out of there and get a bite to eat. His mind was laser focused on just one thing.

His throat convulsed as he swallowed. "You know you're killing me. Wanna get outta here?" Dean was serious, what could the school do about it? Nothing. He'd still have that piece of paper that said he hadn't dropped out or been kicked out.

Sam shifted in the chair, "You have to walk up there and get your diploma." He waggled the camera he held in his free hand, "and if you keep rubbing me, when I go up, I'll be tenting my gown, so cut it out." Sam whispered back. "You can have all you want... later."

"Just don't fall over," Dean answered, sliding his finger back and forth again. If he had to suffer, so would Sam, goddamit. He shifted in his chair, then stilled, feeling the eyes of several teacher on him. Whatever. Under his breath, he started a game they knew only too well. "Remember that spirit we read about, one that makes anything it touches invisible? It touched me. So you're sitting here in an auditorium full of people in that robe, and I come crawling under it. Sam, you better try to hold real still as I lick my way up your leg, and reach the head of your cock on your thigh. I kiss it, touch my tongue to it, then kiss it again." His heart was going out of control just thinking about it.

Sam jerked as Dean continued to rub him through the material, "Dean... really. Please." He whispered, glancing around as he started to grow hard under Dean's touch.

He closed his eyes listening to Dean, picturing everything, nearly feeling it, a low soft moan escaping him, before he could bite it back. Eyes darkening behind lowered lids, fangs elongating. Placing the camera on his lap, Sam reached up to cup his hand around his mouth, to hide his now fully extended fangs from prying eyes. "Dean..." he croaked, before moving suddenly to sit forward, camera falling to the floor with a loud clatter.

Somewhere in all that time, they had begun calling the names of the graduates up onto the stage, and had called Sam's name three times without him responding at all, even as his brother and sister stood on the stage looking out at him frowning. Emmett and Rosalie seemed to sigh at the same time, before they both yelled out, "SAM!!"

Sam's eyes popped open, his head snapping up, inky black eyes on his brother and sister. It took him a minute to figure out what they wanted, why they had called him. Glancing at Dean, Sam narrowed his eyes, muttering behind his hand, "This is _so_ far from over," before pulling to his feet and praying to God that his raging erection wouldn't show. The kicker of it all was, he was supposed to give a speech... how was he going to do that with fangs? 

Giving a satisfied grin, Dean watched Sam head out to get his diploma, a long line of students piled up behind him. His entire body shook with laughter, knowing exactly how uncomfortable Sammy had to be right now with the wood he was definitely showing. Hell, Dean was paying for this game too, cause he was hard and his cock was straining for freedom, but it was worth it. And it was a damned good scenario, one he'd make Sam play out with him some time.

His gaze moved to the audience, and his smirk widened. Alice was giving him a 'cut it out' look. Jasper looked like he was in about as much pain as Sam, and Edward looked distinctly unhappy. Wow... he'd gotten to five Cullens at one time today, had to be a fuckin' record.

Luckily, Rosalie seemed to take pity on Sam and announced to the auditorium full of people that Sam had lost his voice and would be unable to give his speech, but that their brother Edward Cullen was there and had memorized Sam's speech so he could give it in Sam's stead. Sam's dark eyes moved to his brother who was glaring daggers at him, even before he stood to walk up to the stage, his suit neatly pressed to perfection. _Oh great, now he was gonna get an earful from Edward about there being a time and place for such things and how this was neither._

Emmett however stood snickering as he eyed Sam, arms crossed over his chest, "I think you should **walk across the stage and get your diplomia** , Sam." Emmett told him, eyes narrowing.

Sam narrowed his own eyes on his brother, just before Edward huffed and stormed across the stage snatching Sam's diplomia for him and all but throwing it at him on the way back. _Oops..._

Aww man, he wished they hadn't rescued Sam, but that was just how they were wired. Didn't they see the amusing side of this? A few minutes later, Dean had his own diploma in hand. He'd been prepared to act like he didn't give a shit about it, but when the principal looked him in the eyes and said 'congratulations,' a deep sense of accomplishment ran through him. He wasn't sure if it was on behalf of his mom only, but he had no wise cracks, and his smile was genuine as he shook hands.

About an hour later, the graduation ceremony was over and Dean had taken the robe off and was now physically pushing Sam toward his car. "Come on, let's get out of here. You have a promise to keep." Moving closer, he goosed Sam's robe clad ass. "And I got something for you."

Sam nearly jumped at the unexpected goosing, spinning around and walking backward toward the car. "I think you already _gave_ me something," he nodded toward the auditorium, "in there," he narrowed his eyes, "and it wasn't funny either," he told Dean, arms up in a definsive manner, ready for whatever else Dean was going to do to him in the crowded parking lot.

He continued backing until he hit an immoveable object and spun around to find Emmett standing there a smirk pulling at his lips, Edward just behind him. "What's the hurry? We were planning to have a little party at home. You two are coming over, right?" Emmett teased, having seen the play between Sam and his human.

Edward cleared his throat, "It would be nice to get to know your -- uh, Dean before I have to leave." He offered, golden eyes moving from his brother to Dean and back.

Sam stared at the two, before looking over his shoulder at Dean, "Uh..." he looked back at his brothers.

"No." Dean's answer had the ring of finality, even when faced with so many pairs of eyes. "We have things to do... we'll be there in..." he mentally went through the list of ways he thought they might fuck, including his surprise for Sam. "Best case scenario, three to four hours."

Alice and Ros came up to them and had other ideas. Blondie announced, "we had a party planned. Balloons and everything."

"So we'll do it a little later, not like you're going to sleep early or something," Dean shot back, anxious to continue what Sam had started when he'd announced he was nude.

Sam sighed, "That's not very nice, Dean. I mean, if they went to all that trouble..." he looked from one sibling to the next, "two hours, tops. Fair enough?"

Emmett narrowed his eyes as he looked Sam over, "What do you have on under that robe anyway?" he asked, reaching a hand out.

Edward's eyes widened as he shouted a, "Don't!" and Sam tried to knock Emmett's hand away, but wasn't fast enough, his brother lifting his robe and cracking up laughing, head tilted back. "Oh my God, Sam!" he laughed harder, "What happened to our innocent virgin!?" he fought to stop laughing, even as Ros and Alice giggled.

Sam glared hard at his brother, as Edward looked away shaking his head. "How am I related to these people?" he muttered softly.

Jasper stood there clenching and unclenching his fists. "Go home. Do what you need to. Don't come back until you're done. Finished. Got it out of your systems," he said through gritted teeth.

Now assaulted not only by the dirty filthy ideas swimming in Dean and Sam's head, but also in Jasper’s, Edward all but lost his natural cool. As much as it bothered him not to be able to read his Bella, he found himself wishing he couldn't read anyone's mind right now.

"Good idea. Keep this up and you might get another eyeful," Dean warned, moving to Sam's side and putting his arms around him. Goddamit, he needed Sam, right now, and Sam needed him, so all the Cullens could just take a hike.

Emmett waved them off, "Go, do... whatever... and come back with clothes!"

"And with cleaner thoughts." Edward added.

"And not projecting." Jasper gritted out.

Sam allowed Dean to all but shove him to and into the car.


	24. Chapter 24

Dean parked the car askew. Both doors opened and shut simultaneously and the boys raced to the front door. The entire drive, they'd egged each other on, role playing Dean blowing Sam at his graduation, and escalating it so that it supposedly happened while Sam was trying to give his speech. Sam had been graphic in his explanations of how Dean made him feel and now Dean was so desperate that he'd almost pulled off the road twice, intending to demand backseat sex. His hand practically shook as he tried to get the door open. "Fuck"

Sam snickered and gently shoved Dean out of the way, starting to reach into his pocket for his keys and then remembering he didn't _have_ pockets. "Dammit!" he held out his hand, "Gimme your key." When Dean stood there looking at him like he'd just asked for his head, Sam sighed, "Alright, fine." he grabbed for Dean's hand instead, taking a few steps back as he looked up at their bedroom window, dragging Dean with him. "Get on my back." Again with the look. Sam shook his head and sighed. "You're really hard to get along with when you're out of your mind horny., he grumbled, wrapping his arms around Dean's waist. "Don't say I didn't warn you," Sam said, his mouth next to Dean's ear, breath ghosting across tender flesh, a moment before Sam was jumping with Dean in his arms. 

They landed on the ledge and Sam used his TK to open the window, before crawling inside. Looking back at Dean as he made his way in, Sam grinned. "See? Better than a door. And more fun too." he waggled his brows.

"Fun, my ass. You totally cock-blocked me," Dean growled, peeling away from the window, and jumping inside. One minute he'd been pressing his erection into Sam's thigh, then next, they'd flown up and he we was up against cold glass. He shadowed Sam, tracking him, eyes filled with the same heat that was inching through his veins at the thought of finally being skin to skin. 

"Coc--" Sam frowned at him then shook his head as he turned and kicked off his shoes, bent slightly and pulled off his socks, thankful they had tossed their hats at graduation and Carlisle and Esme were taking the blasted thing back home with them. Now, all that was left was the gown. He turned back to face Dean. "So, are you going to get me out of this thing, or do I have to find my own way out?" he quirked a brow, the corner of the his mouth quirking upwards.

In two strides, Dean was in front of him, his hand easily finding Sam's cock through the robe as he pulled him close and kissed him. Eyes shut, he squeezed and rubbed Sam as he thought back on the graduation scene. Hell, that had been hot... so fucking hot, but now he thought he'd die if he didn't have Sam. Maybe the foreplay had been overkill, cause dying wasn't in the plan. He broke the kiss, breathless. "Tell me the truth, was that the best damned graduation you've had?"

Sam frowned thoughtfully, but didn't say anything. He held up a finger, "Hold on, I'm thinking..." he started to snicker, "I dunno, there were the 60's and well, that was kinda fun... oh and the 70's weren't bad either... of course who can forget the 50's....?" he chuckled and leaned into Dean kissing him softly, "Yes, it was the best graduation..." he licked his lips, "and you wanna know why?"

Dean had just about been ready to push Sam away when the vampire changed his tune. "I know why... no one gave you a 'happy ending' before," he said huskily, squeezing Sam again, and sucking his breath in as his lover got thick and hard in his hand. He could tell Sam wasn't familiar with the term and half laughed, and half cried. "Look it up sometime."

Sam continued to frown in confusion for a moment before he nodded, "Okay..." he licked his lips and shook his head, "No, I was going to say that this was the best one because _you_ were there..." he frowned again, "or was that what that meant...?"

"Not exactly." Kissing the frown line on Sam's forehead away, he stepped back and looked at his handiwork. Sam's robe was draped over his cock, giving him a good view of it jutting out and away from his body. Swallowing hard, Dean didn't know if he could keep his hands off Sam for too long. "I want you naked and under me, but I also want to give you your graduation present," he said, his tone showing how torn he was at the moment. 

Sam frowned, "You got me something? Really? I thought you were just... talking dirty." he stepped forward, standing toe to toe with Dean. "You didn't have to get me anything. I didn't know we were getting presents, I.." he bit his lip, looking miserable. "Just give it to me later," he wrapped his arms around Dean's waist, pulled him close/ "Love me first," he leaned in and brushed his lips across Dean's, "and after," he kissed him again, "and during." he chuckled.

"Alright. Need you too much to wait for you to ... figure out if you want it or not. But it was for 'during,'" he said huskily, plastered against Sam and walking him backward to the bed. He pushed him, and had him sitting on the edge. Glancing at the wrapped package on the nightstand, he stepped between Sam's thighs and started to unbutton the robe, ready to heat things up between them again. It was a good thing he'd cooled off a little because if he hadn't, he'd probably have come by now. He wanted this to be a special day, and now maybe he had some of his control back. 

Dean’s gaze dropped to the expanse of flesh and muscle revealed as he made short work of the robe. "Just in case I forget to tell you later... you're beautiful. Inside and out. And I don't think I'd have made it to today, in school... and..." he didn't want to mention his near death so he didn't. "... without you."

Sam smiled softly at Dean as he reached up, holding onto Dean's hips, he leaned forward and kissed his stomach through his shirt, pulling back slowly. "Yeah, you would have... you can do school. You just don't believe in yourself enough. And the other..." Sam bit his lip and looked away, then down at the bed, before looking back at Dean, "if you didn't know me... it wouldn't have happened. So, that doesn't count. As for beautiful..." he smiled wide, dimples showing, "that's vampire allure talking." He chuckled, "but I'll take it." And he did, straight to heart. It might have been the fact that he was a vampire that Dean thought he was beautiful, but it made him feel good to hear Dean say it just the same.

The well placed kiss sent a tendril of heat through Dean. "Sam." Dean cupped his face, and stared into his eyes. "Your whole family... they're vampires. I think they're _hot_ , but I don't find them _beautiful_." 

Sam's hands slid down from Dean's hips, down his thighs and around to cup his ass in both hands, before Sam let himself fall back onto the bed, taking Dean with him. He gazed up at Dean and grinned, "Yeah?" he smiled wider, "Rosalie will be heartbroken to hear that," he said, lifting his head and quickly slanting his mouth over Dean's before he could say anything to his joke. Hearing Dean yell about 'Blondie' was the last thing Sam wanted. 

As they kissed Sam rolled them, the graduation gown falling off Sam's shoulders in the process. Now half on top of Dean, Sam reached for his hands, lacing their fingers together and pinning Dean to the bed as he continued to ravage his mouth.

Dean arched up off the bed, grinding his hips against Sam's as they kissed, tongues battling, searching, taking each other. Wanting to drag Sam down hard on him, Dean struggled to free his hands and realized this was one of those days when Sam wouldn't have it. His lover didn't even know he was holding him down like this, or why. But Dean knew. He moved his mouth away from Sam's, groaning as Sam's lower lip slipped out of his mouth with a soft pop. 

"Hold on... Sammy," he tried to lift his arms again, and saw Sam's eyes darkening. "Baby, trust me. Open your present." He hadn’t wanted to wait for him to open the present, but now... now he wanted Sam to get what Sam needed.

Sam's fingers flexed where they were joined with Dean's a low growl leaving him before he closed his eyes, and slowly took in a breath, fighting the need and hunger that raged inside himself. As he did he pulled his hands out of Dean's, sitting up, eyes slowly opening. "Hmm? Present?" Sam muttered, sounding almost drugged, eyes inky black, fangs already elongated. 

It always seemed to happen this way when bondage was involved, Sam seemed swept away by it, a whole other level of 'turned on', where he was only half aware of reality. 

Nodding, Dean braced himself on one elbow and reached for the package. His mouth throbbed and burned. His body was screaming at him for relief, and here he was fooling around with the gift. "Open it fast Sammy. Before I change my mind," he said, licking his lips and passing it to the vampire.

Sam took the package, glancing at Dean, before reaching to unwrap the box. After getting the paper off and tossing it onto the floor, Sam again glanced at Dean and quirked a brow before looking back and pulling the top off the box. Sam peered inside... and froze. His breaths stopped, he didn't blink, didn't move, only stared into the box as visions flashed before his eyes, ones he was excited by, some of which he was ashamed by.

"Don't you like it?" Dean raised his hips up, nudging Sam to come out of his trance. "Thought it would be easier for you. Then you'd have your hands free and could touch me." 

Dean had never done this himself. He also knew that with his hands free, he could push Sam off if their blood play went too far, and he wouldn’t be able to if he were tied down. But in the months they'd been together like this, they'd found that his mental requests always got through to Sam. 

Seeing Sam's indecision, he wondered if his timing in offering Sam what he thought his lover needed was off. "Don't have to if you don't want... just... you know I'll take you any way I can get you," Dean said.

Sam didn't answer, only moved a hand and slowly reached into the box, pulling one of the cuffs out, laying it on the bed, then reaching in and taking out the other. Tossing the box onto the floor, he turned and looked at the headboard for a few moments, before moving with vampire speed onto his knees on the mattress, and grabbing Dean by his hips, lifting him off the bed, tossing him back against the pillows. He grabbed Dean's wrists before he even had time to react to being tossed on the bed and was pulling his arms wide, one to one of the bed posts and fastening it in a cuff, the other to the other side. 

Sam sat straddling his hips, lip curled, fangs showing as he looked down at Dean, before grabbing a handful of Dean's shirt and dipping his head. His mouth closed around a button then pulled back, spitting the button across the room, before moving on to the next, and the next, and the next, working his way down Dean's button up shirt until he had it completely open. Sam reached for the sleeve of Dean's shirt then, hand curling into the material as he braced his other hand against Dean's body and pulled, shredding the material off, then repeating with the other sleeve.

 _Holy shit!_ He'd expected a little enthusiasm, but Sam's single minded and focused movements scared him a little. Dean's heart beats kicked up a notch. The way Sam tore his clothes off made him want to make sure the same wasn't in store for his jeans. "Sam... Sammy," he licked his lips and tried to make eye contact, and when he did, the heat in Sam's gaze was almost unbearable. "Just tell me you see _me_ " he asked. If Sam was still with him, he was safe.

Sam growled low in his throat, but he nodded in reply, before backing down Dean's body, hand on the button of his jeans, before he leaned down teeth at the button and pulled. The button popping off in Sam's mouth, which he spit across the room. He looked up at Dean then and ran his hands slowly up his sides and back down, leaned his head down and place a soft kiss against Dean's abs, as his hands moved lower to unzip Dean's jeans. Pulling his hands out, Sam gripped Dean's hips as he turned his head, laying it on Dean's stomach and closed his eyes, fighting for a semblance of control.

Despite the nod, Dean was still tense. Sure Sam had manhandled him before, but not quite like this. Tearing his clothes... literally. Using his teeth on buttons. The only thing that he recognized was Sam's gesture of laying his head on his stomach. He liked to do that when he wanted to last longer. He looked up at the leather cuffs. Damn, maybe he should not have gotten the kind that was lined with the bluish metal and was impossible to break. 

"Yeah, I see you. It's okay." he said softly, before turning his head again and placing another kiss on Dean's stomach before pulling back so he could pull Dean's jeans and boxers off, dropping them onto the floor.

When Sam finally answered him, Dean let out a sigh of relief, whimpering when he felt Sam's lips on his stomach. He lifted up, to help his lover get him free of clothes, and then they were both naked. 

Crawling back onto the bed, Sam moved up Dean's body and leaned down, brushing his lips across Dean's. "Sorry about the clothes... I'll buy you new ones. Hundreds of them... thousands, so I can bite as many buttons as I want to."

"I didn't know you liked biting them off." Swallowing again, he pulled against the cuffs and lifted himself up to kiss the corner of Sam's mouth. He kissed him again, stabbing his tongue inside, pulsing it over Sam's fang, wondering if it ached the same way as his own cock ached when he was touched. "What does it feel like," he asked, huskily. He knew Sam didn't like to talk much during sex, and that they were opposites that way, but he always liked to push the envelope and get as much out of Sam as possible. His arms strained, and he fell back down, still looking at Sam for an answer.

Sam smiled softly at Dean. Yeah, he didn't know he liked biting them off either, but apparently he did. That was a new one he'd have to remember. And then all thoughts left him, other than how good Dean tasted as he kissed him, until Dean's tongue touched his aching fang. Sam squeezed his eyes tighter closed, biting back the groan that threatened to escape. 

Sam licked his lips, quirking a brow as he watched Dean fall back against the pillows once more. "What does what feel like?" he smiled slightly as his cheeks turned a soft shade of pink, "you're going to have to be a little more clear on what exactly you're asking me. I kinda got a lot of things going on right now."

So did Dean, who was moving restlessly under Sam, trying to get a bit of friction going. "Yeah." He drew a heated breath. "How about you start with what you felt when I touched your fang." His biceps bulged as he pulled himself up and did it again, this time rubbing his tongue against Sam's other fang and felt it elongate. He dropped back down, aiming a frustration filled look at the bindings... which he was sure thrilled Sam.

"When you touched my fang?" he frowned thoughtfully as he tried to decide how to describe that, watching Dean struggle as he did and moaning softly at the sight. Sam opened his mouth to tell Dean he really needed to stop that, when Dean's tongue made contact with his opposite fang making Sam groan low and close his eyes briefly. 

Sam smiled at Dean seeing the look of frustration on his face, "Serves you right for," Sam glanced up at Dean's bound wrists and quickly looked away, groaning low. After a moment, he turned his head and looked back at Dean, "Unless you want the button biter back, you really need to stop struggling so much. As for my fangs... they ache, throb. And when you touch them it's the sweetest pleasure/pain." he reached down and wrapped his hand around Dean's cock, "kinda like this." Sam said, as his hand slowly stroked for a second before pulling away. "Now, are we finished with the talking?" he quirked a brow.

"Ungh..." Dean glared when Sam pulled his hand away. "I didn't want you to stop," he said. "Show me again, longer," he demanded, lifting his hips and thighs up despite Sam's weight on him. The leather binding creaked against the pressure he put on it, but Dean didn't care. "And tell me what it felt like walking up to the stage with a hard on." That made him flash his teeth at the memory. "Show me what you felt like." Yeah, maybe that tactic would work, cause whatever it took, goddamit he needed Sam's hand wrapped around him again.

Sam chuckled, shaking his head slowly, "Show you again, longer?" he sighed, ink colored eyes dancing, "Why don't you just tell me you want me to touch you?" 

He frowned hard at Dean's next request, "It was damn embarrassing. Thank God no one in that auditorium gave a rat's ass except you." He narrowed his eyes, "And if Ros hadn't saved my ass, the entire school would have seen my fangs, thank you very much for that, by the way. No, we aren't talking about this anymore, or else I'll leave you tied up here while I go hunting with Emmett." He pulled back, sitting upright on Dean's hips, he moved his hand behind him and wrapped it around Dean's cock, stroking him slowing as he looked down at him. "Are we finished talking now? I had better things planned to do with my mouth..." he sighed as if put out.

Since he wasn't hearing anything that he liked, Dean nodded his agreement. "Finished... yeah... oh yeah," he almost came off the mattress as Sam took his aching cock in his hand once again, and promised more. It was weird... not seeing Sam's hand work him, but he wasn't complaining about the view. He drank in the sight of his lover, from the perfect features of his face, to the long column of his throat, and down his chiseled abs. And his cock, thick and firm, pressing tantalizingly against Dean’s stomach. 

Sam's lips slowly curled into what could only be deemed as an evil smirk before he pulled his hand away from Dean's cock and started to move down Dean's body. Glancing up at Dean, he narrowed his eyes, "Don't struggle. You don't want a biter down here now do you?" he gave him a pointed look, before continuing to move downward, kneeling between Dean's legs. Sam pushed his legs further apart so Dean was spread wide, before moving into a more comfortable position himself, laying on his stomach, feet and calves hanging off the end of the bed.

About to be very vocal in his protests about using the word 'biter' in conjunction with 'down there,' Dean was silenced by the feelings rushing through him as Sam spread him and his face hovered over his cock. Though he wanted to tug against the bindings, he managed to prevent himself and to wait 'patiently.' 

Wrapping an arm around Dean's waist, holding him immobile, Sam dipped his head and ran his tongue from the base of his cock to the tip, then back down and up again, circling his tongue around the tip and dipping into the slit before running his tongue back down again. He placed nibble kisses up the side of Dean's cock, then took just the crown into his mouth, circling his tongue around it and sucking hard, flicking his tongue against the tip before pulling off and licking back down the side again.

At first, Dean held still, enjoying the sensations. But as Sam played with him, all sorts of fires started burning. Groaning, he tried to lift his hips and found that he couldn't move even an inch. Cursing loudly, he tried again, this time lifting his entire body and tugging on the bindings. "More. Take me inside your mouth again. Suck me hard, please... Sam. Play with me later, but not now... been waiting all day," he said, trying to appeal to his lover's sense of fair play.

Sam only tightened his grip around Dean's hips and continued his slow torture, licking back up again, then flicking his tongue along the side. He licked back up once again, raising up, almost sitting as he pulled his legs back onto the bed, Sam quickly deep throated him, taking him in until the tip of Dean's cock hit the back of his throat. He swallowed around Dean, letting him feel his throat work against the sensitive head, before pulling back, tongue flicking along the under side as he did, only to take him deep once more, humming around his length. 

Sam pulled his arm from around Dean, sitting up and cupped his balls, rolling them in his fingers as he started to pump him in time with the movement of his mouth on his dick, taking him deep each time and humming every few times, tongue always flicking against him as he moved. 

At first, he'd thought Sam was gonna keep him like this, needy... dying for his touch, too long. Against Sam's advice, he'd thrashed around, unable to control himself. Then Sam was there for him, his mouth sucking his cock inside, taking him... all of him. Dean's head slammed back against the pillow. He dug his heels onto the bed and started jerking his body up, pushing inside Sam's mouth, fucking it. His wrists burned, the leather chafed, but if this was what it took, then it was what it took. He needed Sam, needed to fuck his mouth and a little pain wasn't gonna stop him. "Good... so fucking good. Squeeze me again." His eyes almost rolled back as Sam squeezed his sac and sucked hard at the same time. "Fuck..."

Sam continued to work his mouth and hand on him, continued playing and squeezing his balls, but finally pulled his head back, his mouth coming off Dean with a audible =POP!=. Glancing up, Sam licked his lips, before releasing Dean's sac and lifting his hand to his mouth, dipping a single digit inside, licking and twirling his own finger in his mouth as onyx eyes gazed into jade.

Dean's chest heaved as he watched Sam, eyes burning with an intense light. God... when Sammy's eyes went black like that... he couldn't even describe how it made him feel, how it had always made him feel. All he knew was that every muscle in his body tensed as he writhed as much as he could, groans breaking out of him each time he couldn't hold them back.

Tearing his gaze away, Sam lowered his head again, taking Dean back into his mouth, working him as his wet finger played at Dean's tightly puckered hole, pushing slowly just inside, then out, inside a little more, then out, working his way in slowly, carefully while his mouth and other hand worked his cock hard and fast. 

Once his finger was lodged inside, Sam turned it, hooking his finger until he felt Dean respond and smiled around Dean's cock still in his mouth. That's what he'd been looking for. Sam fucked Dean's ass with his finger in time with his mouth and hand on his cock, gradually speeding up, then slowly adding another finger. Soon he had two fingers inside Dean, and was sucking him, flicking his tongue against him, humming and pumping him like there was no tomorrow.

Any fear he'd had of Sam invading his hole dissipated as his clever vampire kept his cock busy. Worrying was almost impossible, though Dean held his lower lip firmly between his teeth and watched Sam. The initial burn was followed by a pulsing sensation which seemed to kick up the intensity of every wave of pleasure coursing through him. Almost struck dumb, all Dean could do was repeat Sam's name, over and over, eyes glazed over with lust. "Oh God... Sam, gonna come if you keep it up." He wanted to... wanted to so damned bad, he was fighting the bindings now, fighting them for real. 

Sam continued his assault on Dean's senses, small moans leaving him as he worked his mouth on Dean's cock, sucking and flicking his tongue, moving on him faster, his hand pumping him, pivoting now, increasing the sensations. His fingers in Dean's ass moved, thrusting deep then pulling most of the way out before Sam pushed them in again, making sure to hit that sweet bundle of nerves every time.

As heat pooled low in his belly, Dean's fingers curled around the leather. With superhuman strength, he arched up off the bed, shouting Sam's name and closing his eyes as he started to find the release he so badly needed. _Yes, yes... oh God..._ Just as he felt himself start to erupt, his lover's fingers clamped around the base of his cock. 

As Sam had felt Dean's balls draw up, he knew it was time, he moved his hand, gripping the base of Dean's cock tightly as he pulled his head up, his mouth leaving Dean's cock with another audible =POP!= at the same moment that he pulled his fingers from Dean's ass. He sat back on his haunches a small smirk pulling at the corner of his lips as he watched Dean thrash.  
Confused... angry, Dean lifted up again, "No... Sam... please," he croaked, trying to fuck but meeting air, and feeling his eyes sting as he wasn't allowed to come. "Goddamit... no Sam, I need to come... I want to," he thrashed, almost kicking his lover in the process.

"You shouldn't worry so much about immediate gratification now that you have the life span of a vampire. You have eternity to come. Now stop thrashing and yelling at me and hold still. I'm not done yet, that was foreplay." Sam grabbed one of Dean's legs that he was nearly kicking him with hand held it down with his free hand, brow quirked as he waited for Dean to settle down.

"No... no Goddamit, that's not fair," Dean grit out angrily. "I am not kidding, Sam." Maybe this giving control to someone else thing wasn't for him. He tugged once again on damned cuffs, then went stock still, willing his body to calm down, but throwing a resentful look at Sam. "Who the hell taught you that, anyway," he demanded.

Sam gawked at him, "Not _fair_? To want this to last a little longer is not fair? To want to come with you, is not fair? To want to make this really good for you, is not fair?" Sam nodded, "Fine. I'm a big damn bully and I just stole your toy. Boo-hoo, get over it." He glared at him, ran a hand through his hair. "Maybe this was a bad idea. Maybe you can't give me..." Sam huffed, shaking his head as he released Dean and started to move up his body to unfasten the cuffs. "Just forget it. Sorry I pissed you off. I thought it would be fun, apparently not for you."

As each of Sam's words sank into his lust hazed mind, Dean finally understood Sam's plan for him. His actions had come as a shock, and maybe he was edgy because this was all new to him too. "Stop... no... I can give you what you need," he said, this time tugging his wrists away so Sam couldn't undo the bindings. "Don't. I'm sorry... I." He swallowed, not wanting to admit he wasn't an 'expert' at anything in bed, but knowing this was important... that Sam was very sensitive about this, that he was ashamed of his desires. "Sam, please, stop. This... I haven't done this. Need to get used to it, okay? I... it's hard to be completely out of control. I..."

Sam reached for the cuffs, not really listening to Dean anymore, just feeling like a total ass and wanting to get out of the room. Hell, if he was dressed, he'd free Dean and jump out the window like he used to do, probably hide away sulking until he got up the courage to show his face again... which he was pretty sure at this point would be never. 

He paused when Dean tugged his wrists away from his grasp and looked down at him through narrowed eyes. Sam sighed and shook his head looking away. Dean didn't have any reason to be sorry, it was a stupid idea, he'd fucked up, ruined everything. Sam hung his head and lowered his arms, sitting back on the bed next to Dean. "It's fine, I shouldn't have asked you to do this, I just thought... I mean, you've done... _everything_ and I've done _nothing_. What do I have to give to you? And then I saw this and it looked..." he licked his lips and looked away, making a face, looking miserable. 

He hung his head again, just sitting there for a long moment, before he moved, turning he stretched out, laying half on, half off Dean and leaned his head down, brushing his lips across Dean's. "I'm sorry." he told him softly, as he ran a hand slowly down Dean's side, and back up. 

"No. I wanted to do this... I want to," Dean answered, wanting to hold Sam and internally cursing his inability to. "I liked it... I do, Sam," he insisted. "It's just me... you know, trying to get things my way. Brat." He used Sam's word. "Don't believe me? Bite test. If I don't pass, we burn the cuffs. If I do... we learn to talk stuff through, or ... if I could just see what you want," he nodded. "You said something about leaving me here, earlier... stuck in my head," he admitted, even though deep down he knew Sam wouldn't do that to him.

He thought Dean was full of shit, but it was nice of him to try and make it sound better, because he _definitely_ hadn't 'liked it'. Bite test... if he bit Dean every time he thought Dean was feeding him a line of bull he'd look like a friggin sprinkler he'd be so full of holes. So, instead, he merely quirked a brow at him. "Well, if I had told you... it kinda ruins the surprise... though apparently the _surprise_ is only appreciated on video." He frowned at Dean at his next words, "You actually thought I was going to do that and just leave you here?" he huffed, "Now see _THATS_ the problem. You don't trust me." He shook his head, "We can't do this if you don't trust me." He looked away, up at the cuffs, "I'll just unfasten you and we'll do it like we always do. It’s okay, it's fine." He leaned in and brushed his lips across Dean's lingered and deepened the kiss, tongue darting into Dean's mouth as me moved to lay more directly on him. 

"No," Dean bit out, but kissed Sam back, putting everything into the kiss. Stroking the inside of Sam's mouth, taking his tongue inside and moving his body suggestively under him.

Sam was completely flaccid again, after everything that had happened and feeling like an ass, but the kiss tore a low moan from deep in his throat as he ran his hands over Dean's body, up his sides, his arms, and back down again.

"Goddamit, no," once again, Dean pulled his wrist out the way when Sam reached for it. "That's not the trouble, because if I didn't trust you, you can damn well be sure these," he pulled against the cuffs, "would not be made of stuff that can hold me. The problem, Sam, is that you give up too quick. If it's not just right, or just perfect, that's it... you toss it out. That's not how it works with sex, okay? I don't care how they show it on DVDs, that's not real. Reality is you learn as you go, and you find your rhythm as you try new things. First time I had sex, it was awful. So was the second and the third wasn't anything to write home about either. I didn't give up, and don't you give up on me... or on something that makes you happy."

Sam quirked a brow before leaning downs as he ground his hips against Dean's. Lips against Dean's so close that they brushed as he spoke, "Anyone ever tell you that you talk too much during...?" Sam asked him softly, letting his sentence trail off, a slight smirk pulling at his lips as he raised a hand up off Dean and waved it, wiggling his fingers instead of saying the word.

"No." He would have elaborated if his breath hadn't caught at the nearness of Sam's mouth to his. 

Sam dipped his head, placing open mouthed kisses along Dean's neck, tongue dragging over his skin as teeth nipped softly until his mouth was next to Dean's ear. "Wanna try again, start over. Trust me, not gonna leave you. Wanna make it good for you." He whispered softly before his tongue darted out, licking the shell of Dean's ear, breath fanning over his skin as Sam slid his arms up under Dean, wrapping them around him to hold him tight, pressing them even closer together.

"Okay," he nodded, then arched up, moaning against Sam as his weight pressed down on him. "If you sit up...on your knees, you can fuck my mouth," he suggested. "Make you feel good, like you made me."

Sam moved his mouth back down to Dean's neck, tongue running over the veins, pressing against them, feeling the blood flowing under his tongue, making his teeth start to ache again, his blood lust rise along with his lust as his hips began to move, rhythmically grinding and sliding their cocks against one another’s. Sam's cock responding immediately, thickening and lengthening against Dean's as he thrust against him. Sam's tongue continued to lick the veins of Dean's neck, lingering over the jugular, small sounds of pleasure and desire escaping him. 

Sam slowly forced himself to lift his head, darkened golden hazel eyes gazed down into green. "So beautiful," he told him softly, before his gaze left Dean's face, looking up at the cuffs holding Dean's wrists immobile. A low groan tearing from Sam's throat at the sight, before he turned his head away, eyes squeezed tightly closed as if in pain. 

After a moment, Sam turned his head back, eyes opening to reveal inky black eyes, lip curled back revealing his fangs, a low growl sounding deep in his chest. Slipping his arms out from under Dean, Sam moved and did the unthinkable, even with his teeth aching, the blood pounding in his temples, Dean's blood rushing in his ears, the sound of his heartbeats driving him nearly mad, Sam moved back slightly and laid his head down, ear over Dean's heart, listening. A wounded whimper broke from him as he laid his head there for a long moment, fighting against his instincts, fighting against the need to take that blood, to feed, to possess. 

Fingertips of his hands resting against Dean's sides, digging into his skin as Sam clung to him, listening to the source of his agony. His cock twitched and pulsed between them, leaking precum his lust and bloodlust so closely mingled he couldn’t tell where one ended and the other began.

It was torture, sheer torture for Dean, to watch Sam drive himself to the very edge and not jump off. It was as if he was emulating what he'd done earlier, to Dean, made him crazy with the need to come and then prevented him from it. He didn't know... never thought Sam could tease himself to this extent, and he had the feeling Sam hadn't known either. The vampire's need to take is blood was coming at him in waves, and Dean started to moan and writhe, lifting his body up, inviting Sam's bite... making it so much worse for the both of them as Sam continued to resist.

With vampire speed, Sam moved, shimmying down Dean's body, quickly taking his cock deep in his mouth until he bottomed out against the back of Sam's throat. Sam worked his cock as he held Dean's hip in a hard, bruising grasp, as his mouth and free hand moved in fast fierce strokes. 

"Angh," Dean groaned as his now very sensitive cock was brought back to life with no warning. Soon he was crying out and moving against Sam's mouth and hand almost as if in a fevered state, every so often forgetting his arms weren't free and tugging on them to try to push Sam's head down, to get a measure of control.

Sam pulled his head back, Dean's cock falling from his lips with a loud =POP!= before he moved, crawling up Dean's body, eyes dark as night, intent on Dean's, Sam straddled his hips and leaned over, slanting his mouth over Dean's, fangs dragging across the tender skin of Dean's lips as he kissed and pulled back, kissed and pulled back then reaching back, Sam held Dean's cock steady in one hand as he lowered, slowly impaling himself. He squeezed his eyes tightly closed, a low groan leaving him, teeth clenched, lips inches from Dean's as his body sank downward, taking Dean's rigid length deep inside. Sam's free hand gripping Dean's side hard enough to shatter bone if Dean were not as strong as he was now.

A cry was torn from the back of Dean's throat as he found himself enveloped in Sam's heat. "So tight... so good baby, so fucking tight," he said through gritted teeth. His eyes locked with Sam's as at first, they barely moved. All he knew was he was lodged deep inside his lover, dying to fuck him, every instinct screaming at him to roll Sam over... but completely helpless to do just that. The look in Sam's eyes told him Sam had an inkling of what was going on in his mind and was getting off on it. "Hurts... aches not to be able to fuck you hard like I want," Dean told Sam, watching his eyes grow impossibly darker. "Want it so bad."

Sam suddenly pulled back, sitting up on Dean, head tilted back as he started to move, slowly riding him. His free hand ran over Dean's stomach and chest as he continued to hold onto his side with the other, lips parted, eyes closed. Sam gyrated his hips, grinding down against Dean, before lifting up to almost the tip of Dean's length only to nearly slam back down again. He bit his lip as low moans and groans sounded deep in his throat and tumbled from his lips. Lifting his head, he opened coal black eyes filled with hunger and looked down at Dean, his tongue darting half out to run along one fang, brows furrowing in pleasure/pain as he moved his hand from Dean's chest and wrapped it around his own cock, slowly starting to stroke himself. After a few moments, Sam repeated his tongue's actions against his other fang, whimpering softly as he threw his head back, lips parted, breaths panting out. "Oh God..." he groaned and drew in breath between his teeth, "Hurts... aches..."

Just when had teeth gotten so damned sexy? As Dean struggled against Sam's hold, trying to do what came naturally and meet Sam halfway, his gaze was laser focused on Sam's tongue, teasing his own fangs. Sharp... dangerous... how Dean would like to be the one pressing his tongue against them, taunting Sam, making him crazy until he took blood and they were mentally merged. "Sammy..." he arched his neck and silently plead.

Raising his head, Sam released his hold on his cock and Dean's side, and turned his head, his eyes on one of the cuffs at Dean's wrist. His cock twitched noticeably at the sight, then the cuff started to come undone as Sam used his TK to unfasten it. 

Knowing Dean would protest, Sam glanced down at him, fingers of one hand going to Dean's mouth gently covering it to silence him. As Dean's wrist fell free, Sam reached for it with his other hand, pulling Dean's wrist up to his mouth. Sam licked the inside of Dean's wrist, eyes closing as he continued throughout it all to ride Dean. Sam groaned, just before his mouth covered Dean's wrist, fangs sinking into tender flesh, a small ribbon of red trailing down Dean's wrist from the puncture site. Sam's tongue darted to the side and lapped the escaping blood up greedily, even as he sucked at the wound.

Dean cursed at the unexpected sharp pain and then again at the intensity of pleasure coursing through his system. This was much better than a trance... hell, he couldn't think of anything better... more erotic. Mentally merged with Sam like this, he felt first-hand how much it turned Sam on... having control like this, having him at his mercy. Fuck... Sam... just fuck. > Dean curled his fingers around the silky strands of Sam's hair, as his lover teased and sucked the wound at his wrist, dragging Dean deeper and deeper into the haze of desire.

Sam's hand left Dean's mouth to take hold of Dean's arm, both hands held fast as Sam clung to the source of blood, the relief to his overwhelming bloodlust, low moans sounding deep in his throat as his body trembled with the force of sensations running through him, like a strong orgasm all its own.

As Sam's hunger threatened to consume both of them, Dean whimpered. Finding his hips were free, he started to buck, pushing himself deeper and deeper inside his lover, gutteral sounds escaping him as he strained under Sam's weight. Dammit... I need to... Sam, roll over. > He flashed a mental image of what he wanted.  
Sam groaned against Dean's arm, one hand dropping to pump himself a few times before he stopped, slowly raising up off Dean, letting Dean's cock fall from his ass, though he kept a tight hold of his wrist, continuing to drink. Sam opened his eyes, looking at Dean from under his brows as he carefully and gracefully moved off of Dean pulling him over with him as he stretched out on his side, facing away from him, then rolled slightly more onto his stomach, arching his ass in the air, as he trapped Dean's wrist under his arm, one hand holding it, the other reaching down to stroke himself. Now... do what you wanted to.>

One arm straining against the leather binding, Dean twisted and rolled half on top of Sam, making an impatient sound. Hand.> A second later, Sam helped him align his cock, and then Dean was inside his lovers hot tight hole in a single thrust. Growling Sam's name, he started to fuck like he needed, hard, fast ... setting a punishing pace. "Yeah... oh yeah," he groaned against the back of Sam's neck, kissing him, and then losing himself inside Sam's needs, Sam's desires, the gnawing hunger that could never be fully satisfied.

Sam moaned against Dean's arm, growling deep in his throat, his grip on Dean's wrist nearly crushing, if Dean weren't strong like a vampire now. He drank deeply, lapping that the blood that oozed past his lips. Feeling Dean's passion, his wants, and desires drew groans from deep inside Sam, his hips bucking against the mattress, pushing back against Dean's thrusts. The sensations racing through Dean joined the sensations torturing him, the needs and hungers already nearly consuming Sam until he was mindless with lust and bloodlust. Oh God... too much... can't... fuck! Harder, baby! Need more...> Sam bit down harder, his fangs sinking in as deep as they could, deeper than he had ever imbedded them, needed more of Dean, more blood, more of his body, needing so fucking much... He groaned loud, an animalistic growl tearing from his throat as both hands clasped around Dean's wrist, fingertips digging into the flesh, short cropped nails making crescent moon cuts.

At Sam's urging, Dean went wild. He stopped caring that his arm was about to be torn out of its socket, or that his body was at a strange angle, or that he should make sure Sam didn't take too much of his blood. All of that fell away as he gave in to the need to possess. Thick and hard, he fucked with powerful motions, pressing Sam into the mattress with each thrust. "Can't get enough... never enough," he croaked as his cock ached for release. Fuck, fuck... fuck... so close, Sammy. >

Sam groaned, tightening his grip on Dean's wrist, as he pressed back against him. So good... don't want to....ever end.>

The combined force of their lust was overwhelming. Dean needed to come so bad, his entire body was tense and shaking. Out of control, he started to call Sam's name, over and over, until he dropped his head and bit Sam's shoulder, a hoarse cry punctuating his release as he filled Sam with his hot seed. 

Sam continued to thrust back against Dean, drinking in deep gulps of his blood, his muscles tense, holding on, not wanting this to ever end, wanting to go on like this forever... As Dean bit into him, Sam bucked back, a strangled cry tearing from his throat as his eyes opened wide, his body spasming, reacting, heat pooling low in his belly with such force his release had him crying out against Dean's arm. Screaming his pleasure, as he held on tightly to the only solid thing there was in his world right then, Dean's wrist. 

His eyes closed as he slowly came down from the highest high he could have ever imagined, his body trembling noticeably, breaths panting out against Dean's arm as his muscles slowly relaxed and he lay still and peaceful against the mattress, slowly lapping at the blood from the wound in Dean's wrist.

Dean licked Sam's shoulder. Sorry. I guess your vampy moment got to me.> He continued to slowly move inside Sam as the last remnants of pleasure dulled. Kissing over the spot, he opened his heavy eyelids. Need to stop drinking baby. Close my wound.> He would have said it out loud, but mental speech seemed to be the only thing that got through when Sam was in the heat of bloodlust.

Hmm? No, don't be sorry. Loved it. So hot.> he huffed in his mind. Don't wanna stop... so good.> In the next breath however, Sam pulled his head up, a small gasp heaving him. Looking down at the wound he had made, he reached up toward a fang, pricking his finger and let his blood drip onto the wound to close it. Laying his head down on the pillow beside Dean, he sighed. "We need to figure out a way to do that for hours and hours... days even," he murmured softly.

Dean chuckled. "That wasn't enough of a workout for you? I think I died and came back." Pressing his mouth against Sam's shoulder, he made face as his half numb arm started to give him a message. "Cut me loose?" 

Sam smiled softly, "I'll be ready again in like two seconds here." he smiled wider and looked over his shoulder at Dean, "I dunno, I kinda like you the way you are... but if you insist." Turning his head to look up at the cuff one last time before using his TK to unfastened it. 

Laying his head back down Sam smiled softly, "Would be _much_ easier if you didn't have that tattoo... then I could hold you down with my TK," he grinned wider. "Wouldn't _that_ be interesting? Having a lover I could just randomly hold down whenever I wanted to and yet my hands are free...." He frowned. "Wish I slept. I could dream that... oh well..."

Even as Dean moved his arm around and rubbed the numbness out of his wrist, his mouth went dry. "I'll try to dream it for you... or think it, next time you're having your... chocolate chip cookie snack." He stretched, then put his arm around Sam, drawing him close, fitting him to his body. "I can't believe you want to tie my legs down," he smirked.

Sam went rigid in Dean's arms. "I didn't... I never said..." he turned and frowned at Dean, "You know how you always tell me some things are private? Ditto."

"Mmmm. But if that was private, how could we try it sometime?" he asked, not at all sorry for having read it in Sam's mind or for having brought it up. He held him tighter, then moved back and rolled him onto his back so he could look down in his eyes. "You know you can tell me or show me anything you want. I'm not promising anything, but I'll always think about it." His gaze dropped to Sam's mouth, but he forced it back up.

Sam opened his mouth to argue, and closed it, looking away. "You didn't even like..." he raised a hand and covered his face, feeling awkward and embarrassed by his desires again. Slowly he pulled his hand away, but he still didn't look at Dean. "It's just really messed up, you know? I shouldn't want... like... but I do... and I feel..." he huffed, grabbing a pillow and covering his face with it as he turned a soft shade of pink.

Laughing out loud at him, Dean tickled his ribs until he relinquished the pillow. "Aw, come on. You're a hundred years old... you can't be embarrassed by kinks." The fact remained, Sam was embarrassed or felt guilty, and Dean knew all this not just from what he said or how he acted, but he felt it when they were joined in every way possible and he could read Sam. "Sam maybe being chained for years did have an effect on you, and maybe it didn't. Who cares what the reason is behind it? You like to spice things up with a little bondage... big deal. You're just damned lucky you got me for a boyfriend and not some prude like Edward." Yeah, he'd pegged Sam's bro already for that.

Sam frowned, making a face. "Edward?" he groaned like he was in pain and reached for the pillow again, stopping only when Dean made him. He narrowed his eyes, "If you _ever_ tell Edward about this conversation, or think about it in front of him, I won't talk to you for the next hundred years," he huffed. "I'd never hear the end of it. He'd psychoanalyze me until I could never..." Sam raised a hand and waved it, wiggling his fingers, "again."

"I'm not a blabbermouth-Cullen," Dean said pointedly. "But if he gets in my head..." he gave a shrug. As if he could control what went through his mind.

Sam ran one hand up and down Dean's back and wrapped his other arm around him. "Oh... by the way...." Sam arched his hips upward, letting Dean feel his hardening cock. "See? Told you it would be just a minute."

"Guess I'm lucky too... turns out my boyfriend is a sex freak like me." Grinning, he started kissing his way down Sam's body, lingering at his naval, sucking the taut skin around it before relenting and moving lower. "Tell me what you'd do if you did tie my legs down," he threw out, smiling before taking Sam in his mouth.

Sam sucked in a breath, hand smacking down on the mattress as he arched his neck back. "I'd um... maybe you could just... read my mind later..." he suggested, as his hand ran slowly across his abs, coming to rest as digits threaded in the soft short strands of Dean's hair. "Don't stop...."

Pulling slowly off Sam's cock, Dean looked up at him from between his legs. "You know we can't do _that_ so quick." He had a limited blood supply so there wouldn’t be any blood reading. "Come on, start talking, I'll suck you off to it." Knowing how hard Sam found talking through sex, he gave a wicked grin and landed the lightest kisses around Sam's head, flicking his tongue out and torturing him until he got his way. This was more like it. Opening his mouth wide, he sucked Sam's tip, then took him in, all of him... making it impossible for Sam to remember the party they had to get to.

Sam's hand fell away from Dean's head as he lifted it, dark eyes intent on his lover, his mate, his world. Sam smiled slightly at Dean's protest that he couldn't drink his blood again so soon. It was because once Sam started, he never wanted to stop, and he knew it. But he no longer felt guilty about it. More like the naughty little boy who was caught eating candy until his belly ached. Sure, it might make things hell later, but for those moments, he'd been in heaven and he wasn't going to apologize now that he wouldn't kill Dean doing it. 

Sam huffed at the idea that Dean 'suck him off' to his telling what he would do if he tied Dean's legs down. First off, Dean knew damn well he wasn't a talker in bed. Sensations would run rampant through him making him lose his train of thought before he ever really began, making him only wind up sounding like a babbling idiot. NOT his idea of a good time, or sexy. 

As Dean teased and tortured his cock, Sam ground himself muttering out descriptions of what he would do, but having trouble following along with his own thought process. Soon, Sam wasn't even all too sure what his own name was, but who the hell cared as long as he had his mate, his love, his life, his world with him? The rest of the world and everyone in it could fall away and he wasn't so sure he'd even realize it... or care. 

* * * 

Two weeks went by and things had fallen back into a semi routine. With Sam, Rosalie, and Emmett having graduated, that left only Alice and Jasper at school for their last year. The Cullens knew they would probably have to move too soon because they could pull off the 'we just age well' line for only so long before people began to grow suspicious. The news that Sam was going on a long road trip with Dean, hunting, actually went over better than Sam had feared. Carlisle and Esme made certain to let Sam and Dean both know they would always have a place to call home.

Dean was freaked out by all the assurances about having a home with them wherever they were. Didn't they get this was just a road trip? They'd be back in a couple months? And the Cullens weren't going anywhere for a decade at the very least so what were they getting all hyper about? Sam's explanation that ten, twenty, thirty years were just a wink in time for vampires didn't make much of an impression. Sam's final word was that after Dean too had lived for a few more decades, he'd get it. 

Then they’d taken off, leaving Forks behind.

A few days later, Sam stood just outside of the Impala, smiling across the roof at Dean, before he slid inside, closing the door after himself. "I'm nervous. What if this Bobby doesn't like me? What if... _he knows_? Is he gonna try to chop my head off? Cause dude, it ain't happenin'." Sam rambled on for the nearly hundredth time his worries about meeting this friend of Dean's family.

Merely shaking his head, Dean got in. They'd be crossing the South Dakota state line, and be there before evening. That meant he had quite a bit of time to calm Sam down, but the problem was that he'd talk the vampire down, and then Sam would remember that Bobby was like family or that he was a damned good hunter, and then the angsting would start all over again for a different reason.

A few hours into the drive, Sam sighed, laying his head back on the headres. Slightly slanted golden hazel eyes slid to the side as he watched Dean a few moments before he spoke, "So, I had this idea the other day..." he began, waiting for Dean to show interest, his hand moving to rest on Dean's thigh.

"Huh?" Dean looked over at him. "What kinda idea?"

"I was thinking that you could," he paused in his sentence and waved his free hand, wiggling his fingers, the way he always did instead of _saying_ 'screw' or 'fuck', "me, with me on my knees either on the bed or against the wall, where I can't bite you, can't drink from you... where all I can do is dig my nails into the wall, peel the wallpaper off and whimper as I ache for it, as I tease myself running my tongue over my fangs... then once you cum, I can spin around and tie you to the bed, bite into you somewhere new as I jerk off on you." He smirked at Dean, "what do ya think?"

"Sam, what do you think I think?" Dean groaned, his cock surging at the mental images stirred by Sam's ideas. He licked his lips. "What... how do you know you can stop yourself from drinking before we're ready?" he asked. Sam had learned some control, but more often than not, he reached a point where he couldn't fight the urge and had to at least take a little blood.

Sam smirked and shrugged, "Guess you'll just have to _control_ me..." he waggled his eyebrows. Looking back out the window, he pressed his lips together for a second before licking them, "You know, if you don't drive like an old lady we can probably stop for the night somewhere and try it out." he suggested, slowly turning his head to look at Dean, a smirk pulling at his lips.

"You know we're very close, it's not gonna take till night. We pull over and... hell, if he found out we were at a motel within spitting distance, I don't know what he would think." A muscle in Dean’s jaw pulsed as he kept thinking about Sam with his hands against the wall. "You know... I'd probably taunt you. Push all your buttons... ask how much you want my blood." His voice dropped down an octave. "Damn... we shouldn't have started this game right now." His gaze slid to Sam's profile and all he could think about was tasting those lips, and pushing him up against a wall. "Fuck."

Sam grinned and licked his lips, sliding his hand further over to the inside of Dean's thigh, his thumb brushing over the obvious bulge in Dean's jeans. "Problem, Dean?" Sam asked feigning innocence.

A groan broke from him. "Yeah... big and getting bigger. Sammy, if you don't cut it out, we're gonna be late... and Bobby doesn't like late..."

Sam grinned at him for a second before he thought about that remark, then quickly snatched his hand away, jaw set as he looked out the window. "He isn't going to like me anyway. Probably not good enough for you... and _that's_ before he figures out I'm a vampire!" he groaned and slid down him the seat, closing his eyes. "I think I'm gonna be sick." he muttered, even though vampires didn't _get_ sick, especially him. He'd never been _sick_ a day in his life.

"You've got to be kidding me." Dean hit the brakes at that and pulled over onto the shoulder of the road and looked at Sam. "I can't tell him." Seeing the confusion in Sam's eyes, he twisted around to face him and took his hand. "Sam I can't tell him we're... I can't give him two heart attacks in one day. You're my hunting partner, that's... he'll guess you're not human, and I'm gonna tell him. That part's gonna be hard enough, but us together... like that? He's gonna have a fucking coronary."

Sam looked at Dean for a long moment, lips pressed together tightly before he gave a cut nod, "Fine," he looked away, out the side window for a long moment before looking back, "You know maybe on the way there we can pick me up a girl off the side of the road, then he'll really never think we're together. And hey, if he figures out I'm a vampire, I'll just drink from her in front of him, tell him she's my donor, so you're safe," he snapped, before looking back out the window again.

Dean hung his head in shame and let out a sigh. "Sam." He tugged on his hand and leaned over. "I love you, you know that. It's just... okay, it's complicated. He's a hunter. Sam you know how they are, you've met a couple already. You can't go around telling them you're in love with another guy... you just can't. And with Bobby, maybe I can sometime, just not now. Please don't be mad. I'll make it up to you, I swear."

Sam huffed and shrugged a shoulder, "Whatever." He kept his gaze focused out the window, jaw clenched. He looked down, frowning for a moment before looking back out the window, "Sorry you're ashamed of me," he said softly, "You think it's only hard for you?" he huffed again, "my family doesn't hang around humans... they made an exception for you..." he shrugged again, "And Bella... because their sons were stupid and masochistic and fell for their _dinner_." He spat the last word angrily, as he opened the door and pulled from the car, slamming it closed behind him.

Dean banged his forehead on the steering wheel a couple of times before opening the door, and walking over to where Sam stood leaning against the car, near the trunk. "It's not the same thing, and it’s not the same way. Sam you wouldn't bring some werewolf chick home and say 'surprise... this is my wife,' would you? No, you'd break them in slowly. I want him to get to know you and get over one issue, before we get into the next." Seeing the stubborn set of Sam's jaw, he reached up and cupped it, forcing him to look down. "I am not ashamed of you, Sam. You're the best thing in my life. First thing I think about when I wake up, and the last before I go to sleep. And how the freakin' hell you get me to say this stuff..." His jaw pulsed. "You want me to tell him. I will."

Sam looked at Dean and sighed, jaw still clenched, "First off, ew! I don't sleep with _dogs_! It's much better to say that you're in love with your," he eyed Dean up and down, " _cheeseburger_ than that you're into beastiality." He gave a visible shudder, and repositioned his stance, hand in the front pockets of his jeans. "And no, I don't want you to tell him because I want you to. When you tell, I want it to be because you're so fucking happy you have to tell someone... maybe you'll never get to that point though, I dunno," he said before pulling away from the car and walking away.

Striding after Sam at double time to catch up, Dean grabbed his arm and whirled him around. "Don't walk away from me. Don't." His jaw started to ache as he stared into Sam's eyes, trying to see clear to his soul. "I get you're disappointed and unhappy with me. Maybe I deserve it. I probably do, but dammit, you're a hundred. You know what it’s like, you know what my world is like, and I mean hunters. What if... yeah what if young Sam Dorton fell for some guy. What would he do, do you think? Bring the guy home to mama, just like that? I don't think so, and if you say otherwise... you're lying."

Sam's eyes narrowed, as he bit back the retort that was on the tip of his tongue. _Disappointed? Unhappy? HA! Try devastated to know that I really am just a 'fuck toy' you think you can put away when it suits you._ Sam huffed and looked away, out at the road and the cars that passed every few minutes. _You have NO idea what MY world is like because I've protected you from it._

Sam glared at him, taking a step closer until his face was in Dean's. "No, Sam Dorton probably wouldn't... because Sam Dorton was a coward and that's why he died in that alleyway that night!" he snarled, "But you know what he would have done? He would have made damn sure that someone he loved didn't feel like the scum he'd wiped off his boots just because he was going to see 'mama,'" he hissed. "And if you bring up my mother _EVER_ again without showing some respect," Sam nodded, "I will end you." With that he turned and started walking again.

"Dammit." Once again, Dean rushed after him, this time slamming him back against a tree so he was pinned with Dean's hand flat on his chest. "You know DAMNED well that that's not how I think of you, you've been in my Goddamned mind," he shouted. "I love you. I fucking changed my whole life... all of it, because of you. All I ask is for some time, and you go batshit on me. Maybe I'm a coward too." He ran his free hand through his hair, his chest heaving. "But I never... not for one second tried to make you feel like scum."

He stepped back and put both his hands up. "Fine. We'll say you're gay. That the reason you're so pale is that you don't want sun damage and wrinkles. But we are NOT telling him you're a vamp and my boyfriend, on the same day. That's... that's final."

Sam tilted his head to the side, "I'm not _gay_.... I'm... I don't know... bisexual or whatever. I liked girls once too ya know." He quirked a brow. "I never told you about the girl I liked for a while, huh? You were only twelve, and well... a baby. She was seventeen and blond.. green eyes...." he licked his lips and looked at the ground for a moment before looking back at him, "You don't have to tell anything you don't want to... it just... hurt me. That's all. I love you and I would tell anyone. Vampire or human... I guess I just expected the same," he said softly, hanging his head.

"No, I didn't know. Vampire?" he asked, curious, even as he dragged Sam close and brought his mouth inches from his lover's.  
Sam shook his head, "Doesn't matter. Not what I really wanted. Wanted you. Always have."

Dean rubbed his mouth gently against Sam's tight lips. "Matters to me. Everything about you matters, you just gotta learn to believe."

Sam nodded slightly, "I started to... once." He gave a pointed look, before looking away with a sigh. "She was a vampire, yeah. Her name was Veronica and we used to bite," he looked back at Dean, "but that's all."

"Just biting... kinky," Dean grinned and pressed his mouth against Sam's, licking and then delving his tongue inside. What was meant to be a light kiss quickly intensified, and Dean found himself plastered to his vampire and starting a heated make out session. "Don't give up on me, Sammy." He kissed him again, wishing the whole Bobby thing hadn't come up, and that they could be holed up in some motel room, doing their own thing... just the two of them. 

Sam returned the kiss, giving as good as he got, arms wrapped tightly around Dean, plastering Dean up against his muscular frame. Sam shook his head, " 'M not. Not ever. Love you," he kissed him hard, tongues tangling briefly, "too much, for too long."

Dean broke the kiss. "Good. I'm counting on that." Taking a breath, he pulled away. "Let's get this over with. I have a date with this guy who is freakishly tall and looks great bare assed and up against a wall." Grinning, he started to walk away. It was a great game between them, getting each other hot when there was nothing they could do about it. Sometimes it was best to strike first.


	25. Chapter 25

Thank God Sam behaved the rest of the way so that when they pulled in front of Bobby's place, there was no evidence of the type of torture that the boys had gotten into the habit of putting each other through. Dean grinned at Sam. He'd have to tell him some time how grateful he was that Sam was into sex, cause those first months together when they hadn't been able to do much more than kiss had been sheer torture. It was like a love story... the sex maniac who found a sex maniac and they were about to fucking live happily ever after. Right, when he actually said that to Sam, he'd need to toss in a lot of warm and fuzzy love words. As rough as Sam could be, as graphic as he could get when he spoke about sex while they were having it or planning it, his shy, romantic, girly side peeked through all the freakin' time.

Pushing the door open, Dean got out and immediately saw Bobby headed over. Before he could say a damned thing, he was in a big bear hug, getting his back slapped.

"How are you boy? I ain't seen you since Christmas break... look at you, graduated. But don't take on any airs," he said gruffly, letting him go.

Dean took a couple deep breaths. "Doing good, Bobby. Got someone I want you to meet," he said, walking the older man around the car just as Sam was opening the door. "You're not armed, are ya?" Seeing the look on Bobby's face, he knew it was a stupid question, so he just shrugged.

Since Sam had fed recently, he looked a little flushed compared to normal... which just meant he looked pale but not dead. It was also twilight, so they didn't have any 'sparkling' issues. Dean licked his lips. "Bobby, this is Sam Cullen. My new... _partner_."

Bobby squinted as he looked Sam up and down, slowly putting his hand out.

 

Sam smiled, careful to hide his fangs like he always did and held out his hand, "Sir, nice to meet you," he said as they clasped hands, glancing at Dean and quickly looking away before he gave him what Dean always referred to as his 'love sick puppy eyes' look. "Dean has told me a lot about you." He let his hand fall away from Bobby's hoping that it hadn't been noticeably cold to the touch. Maybe he could just say that he had held them in front of the A/C in the Impala too long. Yeah, because _that_ was believable. He was growing even more uncomfortable as Bobby stood eyeing him, a light blush starting to stain his cheeks.

 

"You ain't the kind I ever thought Dean would pick to partner with." Bobby told him before glancing over at Dean. "Where did you find this one?"

 

Sam's gaze snapped to Dean. _Holy shit! He knows I'm a vamp. He knows!_

 

"Uh, how so?" Sam asked Bobby, nervously.

 

Bobby eyed him for a moment, "Ya blush like a damn girl."

 

Sam sighed, so relieved he could have fallen into a chair had there been one.

Dean smirked, and gave Sam a look. "Just like I always say. You gonna invite us in, I... we could use a couple beers."

Muttering about contributing to the delinquency of minors, which Dean knew was bullshit, Bobby lead the way. Dean slapped Sam on the back, and started to follow. 

"I don't know any hunters named Cullen. Where'd you pick him up and how good is he?" Bobby crossed over to the kitchen and pulled a couple of beers out of his refrigerator, looking at Dean over the door. "Last time I saw you, boy, you were swearing up and down you didn't want to 'hunt in packs.'"

Oh yeah, Bobby had invited him to partner up. That way the older man could keep an eye on him, but Dean had seen right through his reasons. He cleared his throat. "I ah... ran into him in the pit of hell, got him out. Then he rescued me out of a sitch I had. We seemed to be running into each other a lot, just made sense."

Bobby snorted as he approached them. He was shaking his head, as if he was trying to figure something out.

Dean glanced at Sam, who seemed tense and was standing quite a bit away, took a deep breath and blurted out, "... and we're a thing."

"A thing, what thing?" Shoving the beer into Dean's hand, Bobby lifted the other bottle up for Sam to come grab it.

 

Sam glanced at Dean before taking a step forward, reaching out for the beer Bobby offered. He definitely _was not_ going to drink it however. Sure, technically _he could_ , but there was no real reason to, and the last time he had tried alcohol, Sam had been 'fall on the floor drunk' after just a few sips. Nope, not happening. He  
looked over at Dean again, licking his lips. Did he want him to explain? Cause he would. He didn't have a problem at all admitting how he felt about Dean... but he wasn't so sure Dean wouldn't start to hyperventilate if he did that, so he remained quiet, only looking from one man to the other.

"You know. _Thing_." Seeing the other hunter's blank look, Dean lifted the bottle and practically drank half its contents. 

Bobby looked at Sam, then back at Dean. "You talking in demon tongue or am I going senile."

 

Sam quirked a brow at Dean and looked back at Bobby. "I love him," he stated matter-of-factly. "We're a couple. I've loved Dean for nearly all his..." Sam swallowed and looked at Dean, then back at Bobby, "Uh, for a long time."

"You love..."

Recognizing the signs of Bobby getting wound up, Dean stepped between them. He might not have been able to break the news but now it was out, and he wasn't gonna let Bobby say anything to hurt his _sensitive_ vampire. "It's true. And I love him. I know it's--"

Before Dean had a chance to finish what he was trying to get out, Bobby hauled him over to the table and dunked his head in a bucket of cold water. The rosary at the bottom told Dean that Bobby was making the closest thing to holy water. Course he could have fought Bobby, but he didn't want to antagonize him. 

Sam's eyes narrowed and he took a step toward them, attention focused on Dean as he tuned in to his feelings. "I really would let him go if I were you," Sam muttered softly, but with clear warning in his voice.

 

Bobby pulled Dean's head back out, looking into his face as he did, for signs of burns or any other tell tale marks that the holy water had effected him, completely ignoring Sam.

 

"What the hell's the matter with ya, ya idjit!?" he practically shook Dean. "There's somethin' goin' on here, and I'm gonna find out what. No Dean Winchester I know would be confessin' love for some," he glanced over at Sam before looking back at Dean, "guy."

Spitting out some water, Dean wiped his face. He saw Bobby turn to Sam, and spoke quickly. "He's not a demon either. Bobby, listen, I know it sounds crazy."

"Crazy? Boy, last time you stayed here, they had to hide all the virgins..."

Okay, now Bobby was making it sound worse than it was and he hoped Sam wasn't going to start going all emo. He'd been fifteen so yeah, girls around his age were... Rubbing his eyes, he spoke. "Well someone should have hidden Sammy. They didn't and... he's not a virgin anymore." He couldn't repress the smirk, even though Bobby looked horrified.

"Your daddy would--"

"I know, roll in his grave." Dean moved over to Sam and put his arm lightly on his back. "I know Bobby, but it wouldn't change anything."

 

Bobby looked between the two. "Look, I ain't one ta judge who a person hooks up with, er whatever the proper term you ...," he scoffed and narrowed his eyes at Dean, then looked at Sam, " _you_ people, like us ta say," he nodded at that, happier with the idea of referring to Sam as _one of them_ than Dean. "I get it, I do. But, boy, you ain't gay! You're about as gay as Hugh Heffner!" he shook his head, "No. Somethin's wrong. Somethin has hold of you." He took a step closer to Sam, eyeing him up and down, "What are you....?"

 

Sam didn't answer, merely stared Bobby down, as he reached an arm out, practically shoving Dean behind him and out of Bobby's reach.

Dean groaned, leaned his head on Sam's back for just a second, and walked around him. "You don't need to protect me from Bobby. I may have to protect you." Seeing the steely look in the other hunter's eyes, Dean decided right there to put his cards on the table. "Okay... I'm coming clean, but don't you make any judgments Bobby, not until I'm done. Can we sit?"

At the older man's nod, the three of them sat at the table and Dean told how he'd rescued Sam, and that he'd recognized him. Each time Bobby would try to interrupt to make him get to the end, he shook his head. He let Sam explain about his promise to Mary... let Bobby see Sam's sincerity, and then went on with an abbreviated version of having fought vamps and other creatures together and ...

Bobby raised his hand up, "Boy, I don't need visuals."

Dean went silent.

"What are you?" Bobby locked gazes with Sam.

Sam licked his lips and looked over at Dean before looking back at Bobby. "Vampire. I'm a vampire, and NO, I'm not like those gutter dwelling things you people hunt all the time. We're, my family and I, we're different. We don't feed off humans, we feed from deer and other animals. But, not humans. Not ever."

Bobby grunted, still taking his measure of Sam.

"Everything I told you, about him interfering... helping me, it's true. He's ... he's one of the good guys, and he's learning hunting." Sure Sam had super strength and speed, but hanging with Dean, he'd learned about spirits, exorcisms and other things where strength didn't count. "Bobby you know I'd put a bullet through his head if it weren't true. Even with what I feel."

 

Sam scoffed and glanced at Dean from the corner of his eye. "You could try," he muttered softly, stifling the snicker that wanted to come out. Sometimes his human seemed to forget that he was indestructible. He returned his gaze to Bobby and fought to compose his features back to a serious face, nodding. "Yeah, if I wasn't 'one of the good guys' Dean would have chopped my head off by now." At that, Sam had to cover his mouth with a hand to hide his laughter.

"He's cocky. Hasn't realized strength and speed aren't everything," Dean muttered.

"He's naive, hasn't realized you can't kill whats indestructible, even if it held still and let you try." Golden hazel eyes slid to Dean and back to Bobby, "And God forbid if I decided to fight him on that little notion." Sam shook his head. "He's so cute, isn't he?" he asked Bobby, leaning into Dean and shoving him with a shoulder as he chuckled.

"I am - not - a - kitten, stop making me sound like one," Dean retorted, shoving him right back with his shoulder. 

As soon as Sam opened his mouth, Bobby raised his hand for silence. "Enough already! You two are actin' like a couple a damn kids!" Bobby said gruffly. He still hadn't made up his mind about them, or sorted through his feelings. Dean could jump before he looked and this vampire thing had him worried. "So... you never, not once wanted to take Dean's blood? Not in the heat of anger?"

"He's a vegetarian! Come on Bobby, would I lie to you?" Dean asked, his face was as innocent as the day he was born, as he tried to draw attention to himself and off his vampire who wasn't yet a pro with the whole conning and lying thing. Course trying to keep his mind free of how dark Sammy's eyes could get when he thirsted for him and when... that took all of his control.

 

Sam shook his head, his gaze intent on Bobby's. "I would never hurt him." He purposely skipped the whole never taken his blood part of that question.

 

Bobby quirked a brow at Sam, "So you ain't never looked over at Dean and thought, 'Lunch?'"

 

Sam shifted uncomfortable in his chair, "I've..." he looked over at Dean, then back at Bobby, "just because I might think it, doesn't mean I would _do_ it."

"To be fair, I've thought of him as game." Dean cleared his throat. 

Sam looked over at Dean and quirked a brow. "This coming from my cheeseburger," he huffed and shook his head.

Tensing, Dean casually moved his leg and stepped on Sam. What the hell? "He's kidding," he croaked under Bobby's watchful eyes. "Its a joke. I call him my chocolate chip cookie, he calls me his--"

"Boy, do I look like I wanna hear your pet names for each other?" Bobby quickly interupted gruffly, before returning his attention to Sam. "So, you're a vampire, who's... uh," he coughed and glanced at Dean, "hooked up with a human, but you ain't never taken his blood...?" Bobby narrowed his gaze, "Now why do I find that hard to believe?"

 

He looked over at Dean, "And if you offer to show me, I'll take you over my knee!" he muttered under his breath about vampire's drinkin' from places no one needed to see, as he returned his knowing hunter's gaze to Sam.

 

Sam shifted again in his chair, licked his lips. "I, uh," he glanced at Dean and sighed hanging his head.

Shit! "Cut it out Bobby. I swear, you make Sam cry, and I'm pulling him into my arms, right here and--" he trailed off, leaving the rest to the hunter's imagination. "Now can we just drink?" 

Bobby looked at Dean, holding up his hands in surrender. "Okay, okay. None of the," he waved a hand between the two of them and shook his head. "Not in front of me."

 

Sam peered over at Dean from the corner of his eye and let out a breath, the corners of his lips tugging upward slighly, before sliding his beer over to Dean. "Here," he leaned in, whispering, "I'll get you for that one," making it look like it was an accident that he had leaned so close.

 

Looking back at Bobby, as he pulled away from Dean, Sam smiled his most innocent smile and it would have worked too... had his fangs not been showing.

* * *

Three days of hell. At least for Sammy who had been tested up and down by Bobby. He'd taken the boys on a couple of hunting trips but made Sam do the heavy lifting, and he'd thrown everything he had at Sam. Tried to trip him up, given him tasks Sam knew nothing about, tossing out instructions over his shoulder and leaving him with ghosts and other things. Sam had done well, and never complained... at least to Bobby about it. And he'd given Dean and Bobby a couple things to laugh at... yeah he'd been successful, but sometimes he'd done it shit back assed and the longer way around, and there was that one time he'd screamed like a girl.

The important thing was they'd made it and Sam pretty much had Bobby's approval. Once you were 'family' to Bobby, there was a no holds barred loyalty between you and him, and Dean explained that to Sam... that if anything happened to him, he could always call Bobby, have someone other than the Cullens in his corner.

One thing that had the elder hunter rolling his eyes was how shiny Sam got in the sunlight, making it hard to do anything but travel during the day, hiding Sam under a blanket when necessary. One night Dean had awakened and come out of his room to find Sam studiously poking through Bobby's vast collection of books on the occult, and Bobby looking all excited and in a lather about something. When he raised his brow, Bobby explained he had a solution for Sam's 'fairy problem.' That's what Dean called Sam's sparkling skin, and Bobby had adopted the lingo.

Bobby told them about someone who dealt in 'interesting' artifacts. He knew she was in possession of some sort of bracelet that could hold a glamor for twelve hours a day... more than enough to help make it look like Sam had regular skin during the daylight hours. He'd told them not to trust her at all, and that her price would be too high for them to afford buying it from her, that they'd have to steal it. His face had gone sour when Dean turned around and told him that his 'sugar daddy' could afford it, and there had been talk about an ass whoopin'. Tears had streamed down Dean's cheeks, but he wasn't sure Sam got the joke at all. 

The car was packed with their gear, and Bobby had given Sam a hug. Now Sam was in the passenger seat waiting on him, and Dean was saying his own good byes. "Thanks Bobby, for everything." He glanced toward the car and back at Bobby. The older hunter's acceptance still surprised him, but it felt damned good not to have to pretend by him.

Bobby nodded to Dean, glancing at the car himself, "You two be careful, whatever he's willin' ta pay her, Bela Talbot will squeeze another dollar outta ya if at all possible. It's the way she is, greedy little snake, and pretty as a picture, so," he eyed Dean nodding, "you just watch yourself, boy."

 

Bobby hugged him, then watched as he walked to the Impala and slid behind the wheel.

 

Sam looked over at Dean as he got into the car, "Pretty as a picture, huh?"

"Jesus Sammy, don't start." Grinning, he looked at Bobby and nodded, before gunning the car and pulling out onto the street.

Sam huffed softly and looked out his side window, "He about killed me, ya know?" Sure, it was the biggest exaggeration on the planet, but he was in a pissy mood now knowing that they were going to some chick's house that Dean would no doubt be drooling over. So, he felt it was within his right to bitch at least about the hell that the old man had put him through. It wasn't doing the heavy work that he minded. Hell, it hadn't been all that 'heavy', it was the other stuff. And _who_ the hell said anything about friggin ghosts walking _through_ you? He hadn't expected that and when he'd let out the tiniest little squeak, they'd acted like he'd screamed his fool head off. He should have just bitten them both and been done with it. Yeah, that's what he should have done.

 

Sam turned his head, eyes narrowed on Dean. The jerk.

Completely oblivious of Sam's moodiness, Dean shrugged. "It's like you asking a girl out for a date and then getting cross-examined by her dad... only Bobby's got his own way of cross examining. You passed the test. Ding ding ding, you get the prize," laughing, he slapped his hand over Sam's thigh. Oh God, three days of no sex had practically killed him.

Sam frowned and looked down at the hand on his thigh. Looking back up at Dean's profile, Sam quirked a brow. "Wouldn't know, never had that happen. Never asked a girl out on a date... besides, vampire," he grinned and shrugged a shoulder, "I could just _make_ the father like me." He sighed and leaned his head back against the head rest. "I need to feed," he muttered softly, closing his eyes.

"Hunt?" Dean looked over at Sam. "I was gonna pull over somewhere to fuck, but if you need to feed..." Yeah, that would be dangerous, and even though he was strong and he'd like to think strong enough to fight Sam off even if he was in bloodlust, Dean took less risks these days. "Get the map, I marked out all the places where we can find deer... including zoos."

Without opening his eyes, Sam reached into the glove compartment, fishing around inside for a second before pulling his head up and actually looking. Pulling out the map, Sam opened it and started looking at it, glancing over at Dean. "Zoos? Really? You know all those times when I talked about the Lion and the Panther and all that at the zoo, it was a metaphor. I really _don't_ feed off animals in captivity." He frowned looking back at the map, "it's not fair," he shrugged a shoulder, "not that it really is anyway, but still... it's like going to the grocery store in a zoo." He made face, continuing to look. "oh," he added, distracted, "no sex. I want that bracelet. I feed, you eat, and that's it. You can hold out another day or two. Contrary to what you think, it won't kill you."

Dean was still thinking of the grocery store metaphor and was about to ask what was wrong with that when his mind latched onto 'no sex.' "What?! What do you mean no sex?" He turned, "you're fucking kidding me. I'm dying here, thinking of wall sex."

 

"Hmm?" Sam slowly turned his head, his fangs already partially enlongated at the thought of feeding while he had been looking at points where there were deer, eyes a dark golden hazel. He shook his head, "No, I'm not kidding. Dean, I want that bracelet and the sooner the better so I can do more things with _you_. Of course I want to, uh, " he raised a hand and waved it, wiggling his fingers, before letting it drop back onto his lap again, "but there is a time and a place, that of which this is neither. Remember, you have eternity now. What did I tell you about instant gratification?"

Dean's expression turned thunderous. "You said that _while_ we were having sex, that's different. You didn't say you were going to use it to avoid sex. What the hell, Sam... three days, I've been a fucking _saint_ for three days. You're gonna feed, and then we can fuck or you can blow me... something, then we go after the bracelet. Not like it has to take all fucking day to have sex... unless you're into the 'withhold instant gratification,'" he ground out, half horrified at the thought that Sam was serious, and half angry. 

Sam sighed and shook his head. "You held out for three days due to your own fear that your friend would," he frowned as he thought back to the exact term, "have a coronary. Not my fault." He gave Dean a pointed look, "and as for me hunting, I might be gone all night. You can jerk off, I'll feel it. It'll add to the hunt." He grinned, looking back down at the map. "Ooh, there's a wooded area in the next town that's marked with deer," he nodded, "we can go there."

"Sonova--" Shooting Sam a heat filled look that said this conversation was not over, he put his foot to the pedal. The town Sam was pointing to was only a half hour away and there would be plenty of night left both for feeding and sex, and getting back on the road, Goddamit. They could travel during the day too, it wasn't like they never did. Sam just used a screen to cover the passenger window, or hid his face and acted like he was asleep when people got close.

Even as Sam rambled on about stuff, he hardly answered, still trying to understand the reason Sam didn't want sex. 

Sam huffed finally as he eyed Dean, "I think you should get castrated," Sam told him deadpan, just to see if Dean was really paying attention to him or not.

The lengthy pause clued Dean in that a response was required. "Yeah, uh huh," he was still fuming. Whenever Sam asked him for sex, did he ever say 'no?' He'd bet his vampire wouldn't be all into the instant gratification lectures if that happened.

Sam quirked a brow at him and turned in his seat slightly to face Dean better, "Oh really? So, you agree. Okay, well, I could probably do it for you... with my _teeth_. I can just go down there and one good bite and wham! No more sex, _ever_. What do you say, Dean? Won't that be a hoot?" he cocked his head to the side, waiting for his words to actually sink in.

He drove into the oncoming traffic lane to move around a slow driver, then felt the weight of Sam's gaze. "Sure, right... whatever you want." Looking over at Sam, he was startled by the strange expression on Sam's face. 

Sam shook his head slightly, "Do you have _any_ idea _what_ you just agreed to?" he huffed and turned back around in his seat. "Fine, I'll hunt quick and come back. We'll screw like rabbits, so much so that we'll still reek of it when we go see this Bela woman." Sam's having actually said the word 'screw' should have cued Dean in to the fact that he was pissy again now.

"Huh? Did you say 'yes'?" Dean didn't want to miss out on anything important that came out of Sam's mouth. "Good. Great. Ah... it is, right?" Realizing Sam sounded uptight or something, he rubbed his eyes. "Right Sam?" They were thankfully roaring into town, where he saw a motel right next to a strip club and pulled into the lot. When he parked, Sam still hadn't answered him.

He let out a heavy sigh. "What is it? Just fucking tell me."

 

Sam huffed, "Not a thing, Dean," his gaze moved to the strip club sign and back to Dean, eyes narrowing, "yeah, we'll bop like bunnies and then I'll get right on that castration thing for you." He gave him a curt nod, gnashing his teeth at Dean, as he reached for his door handle. No doubt while he was gone hunting, Dean would be over at the strip club getting himself even more worked up. Sam paused and looked back at Dean, a smirk that could only be called 'evil' pulling at his lips. "No strip club while I'm gone. And don't lie to me, Dean. When I bite you, I'll know." e nodded, his smile widening as he turned and opened the car door, muttering, "God, I love this mind connection thing."

"What castration? And why the hell not... I'm not gonna touch and I can get both of us worked up, like you wanted." He was mostly kidding and just getting back at Sam for having teased him with threats of no sex. That was serious stuff. He walked out of the car and went to the back, tossing a duffel bag at Sam and getting his own.

 

Sam caught the bag and huffed, shaking his head. "Whatever, Dean. You do what you think you need to, and I'll do the same." He walked off toward the motel without another word. 

Ten minutes later, Dean had a room for them and they walked inside. He dropped the bag down, and pushed Sam up against the wall. Leaning in, he kissed him hard, then pulled back. "I just missed you... this... a lot. Don't be angry at me for that, I can't help it... help myself. And I wasn't really going to go to a strip club... never been my thing, really."

Sam tilted his head to the side before hanging it as though ashamed. "Oh," he looked back up, leaning in to kiss Dean's lips softly, before deepening the kiss, arms wrapping around him to press his human closer. "I won't tell you what I was planning to do if I found out you had gone then." He cleared his throat, looked away with a sigh for a moment before looking back and leaning his forehead against Dean's. "Told you it wasn't that I didn't _want_ to, I'm just..." he bit his lip, "it's kinda exciting to think that I might be able to go out in the sun with you and not look like a monster. I got anxious."

Nodding, Dean curled his fingers around Sam's biceps, staying close. "I just... I know it doesn't make sense, but I think of the days when we couldn't do it, when it was all a waiting game, and I freak about it. It's like I'm expecting to wake up from this dream where we can do whatever we want." He was sure Sam couldn't understand. Slowly, he let him go, giving him a smile.

 

Sam pressed his lips to Dean's once more before shaking his head as he released him. "No dream. I'm not going anywhere. We've got eternity." He smiled softly, "I'll be back. Quick as I can. Deer are slow," he grinned, "shouldn't take me too long... course I _am_ starving, but... I'll drink small."

"Take your time. When I'm ready, I'll just start thinking about..." he gave his lover a wicked look. "Each of us having one wrist tied either above our heads or to each other. Getting our clothes off would be a work out, don't you think?"

Sam groaned, where he stood at the door. "If it weren't for the fact that I'd likely not stop drinking from you as it stands right now, I wouldn't leave." He sighed, "but I have to. I have to keep my human safe. I'll be back." With that Sam hurriedly opened the door, the door slamming closed behind him after he was long gone, already having disappeared into the woods.

*

 

Sam returned nearly an hour and a half later and walked up to the door of their motel room, instead of unlocking it with the key he had in his pocket, he knocked softly on the door, waiting with one hand braced above his head on the door jam. 

Relaxing on the bed and doing a little research on this Bela Talbot, Dean looked up at the knock. Well it couldn't be Sam since it was too soon and he wouldn't knock. Taking the gun on the nightstand and pushing it under his waistband at his back, he headed for the door. There was no peephole. Tugging it open, he stepped back slightly when he found Sam so close and filling up the door frame. "What happened? Everything okay?" he demanded, confused about how relaxed Sam seemed.

Sam's lips curled, revealing his fangs as he reached in, grabbing a handful of Dean's shirt at the same time as he crossed the threshold. The door slammed closed, the deadblot turning by Sam's TK at the same moment that Sam was slamming Dean back against the wall, crushing their lips together, grinding his groin against Dean's. Sam's hands moved, running down Dean's body, gripping his ass, pressing him crosser, then back up to take Dean's wrists in hand and pin them against the wall. "Got full enough, missed you." Hhe breathed heavily, crushing their lips together once more, tongues tangling.

"Guess so," Dean barely managed to answer, his breath having been knocked out of him. His body instantly reacted, his muscles tensing, his blood surging straight to his cock as Sam ground against him and manhandled the hell out of him. Unable to use his hands to return the favor, Dean used everything else in his arsenal, pushing his leg between Sam's and his knee up, pressing his thigh rhythmically against Sam's sack and cock. Too many days had gone by without release, and Sam's earlier cool reaction to his idea about having sex had really filled him with angst. Now he could see Sam was full of it, he couldn't keep his hands off for much longer than Dean could. 

 

Sam released Dean's wrists, reaching for the hem of his tee and pulling it up, tearing his lips from Dean's only long enough to pull the shirt up and over Dean's head tossing it to the floor before leaning in again. Only this time kissing a path from his lips down to his neck, licking over the pulse point there. "Where? How do you want me?" Sam asked softly, as his hands ran over Dean's flesh, arms wrapping around him to press them closer, his breath ghosting over the tender flesh of Dean's ear. "Now, want you now."

Sam's words drew a deep groan from Dean, he bucked against him at the rush of need coursing through his body. Sam's hands on him, his mouth against his ear, every touch... it was driving him crazy. "Any way... any time, you know that, Sammy," he said between labored breaths, as his mind worked. "Fuck... can't get what you said out of my head. Against the wall, you can't taste me... not until we're done." Dean made the snap decision and moved his hands down between them, working Sam's belt. Metal clinked against metal, and then he had it open and was unzipping his lover's pants. 

Sam's gaze flickered to Dean's hands at this jeans fastenings as he pulled his head back more, before Sam was assisting him, then moving his hands to Dean's belt, button and zipper, as he toed off his shoes and made quick work of getting his jeans off. As Dean removed his own jeans, Sam pulled his own shirt up and over his head, dropping it to the floor.

 

Inky black eyes darted to the tacky orange and yellow flowered wallpaper behind them on the wall, before returning to Dean's green gaze as a small smirk pulled at his lips, "It'll give them a reason to change the horrific wallpaper, we're doing our civic duty," he nodded, reaching for Dean's now naked form and pulling him up close, crushing their bodies together as he leaned in kissing him.

 

Sam turned them around, his own back leaning against the wall as they kissed. Slowly letting go of Dean, Sam broke the kiss and ran his tongue over one fang, groaning as his dark gaze drank in the sight of his lover. "You know this is going to nearly kill me, right?" he smiled slightly, raising a hand to cup Dean's face as he leaned in and kissed his lips softly before turning around, palms flat against the cheap wallpaper. Sam's tongue ran over his other fang and his head fell back, another groan leaving him.

"Promise?" Just the thought of driving Sam wild had Dean almost ready to come. He seriously needed to get a hold of himself here. "And you'll tell me, right... how it feels?" he demanded, kissing the side of Sam's neck, then down his shoulders, licking and sucking as his hands explored Sam's sides and abs, fingers searching, gripping each time he pulled Sam close and slid his mouth down lower.

 

"Oh God, yeah. It will," he breathed, nodding. "Mmm, I'll tell you.. tell you how you make me ache. How I hunger for your body and your blood. How you drive me crazy with want, with need." He swallowed hard, nodding again. "Dunno that I'd be able to stop telling you if you asked me to."

He felt Sam's ass clench under his mouth, and gave his cheek good bite. "Wish my mark would stay longer," he said, knowing any bruises he sucked into Sam's skin would quickly dissipate. 

Dropping to his knees, he ran his mouth up the inside of Sam's thigh, stopping to press his teeth marks into him. "Right here. That's where I want you to feed from, right here, Sam." He moved up, flicking his tongue over his lover's balls. "Think about how fast my blood would rush into your mouth. This getting you hard?" He smiled, and pushed his tongue out again, this time vibrating it against Sam's sack. 

"Oh God, yes! Fuck!" Sam groan/growled, lips parting as his breaths panted out, chest rising and falling with each one. He whimpered low, "Want you so bad already, baby."

"How bad?" Dean wrapped his arms around each of Sam's powerful thighs, holding him in place as he stroked and laved his balls, opening his mouth wider and sucking on one side, then the other. Each time Sam's muscles flexed under his palms, Dean was reminded of how strong Sam was, how much control it would take for him to resist when driven to the edge... and how dangerous he could be if he allowed the bloodlust to rule him, even for a few minutes.

Sam growled, a snarl tearing from his throat as his hands against the wall curled into fists, short nails sliding and tearing wallpaper. Sam ran his tongue over his already aching teeth, the blood pounding in his temples so hard he was mindless with the feeling, the near pain. The sweet sound of Dean's blood ringing in his ears, making his body throb, his need to possess, to take... an overwhelming desire. A strangled cry broke from Sam's lips as his body shuddered, muscles flexing, hands uncurling from fists, nails digging into the wall's plaster. "OhmyGod...."

The sounds Sam made, the way his body tensed and shuddered, he didn't even have to say the words for Dean to know what he was going through. Groaning, he slid one hand up Sam's inner thigh, all the way up to grasp his fully erect cock. Slowly, he stroked his shaft and licked his balls, and stroked and licked, sucking in his breath as his own cock went rock hard. Shifting, Dean pressed his arousal against Sam's leg. It was awkward, and hardly gave him any relief, but he made himself keep going.

When he pulled his mouth off, his hot breath fanned over Sam's balls. "Tell me more," he demanded, kissing his way up the cleft of Sam's ass, his tongue darting out and giving him a preview of what he intended.

Sam's body tensed, back arched as he raised up slightly as his head tilted back. "Oh..fuck, Dean... you can't... too much. Please." he leaned his head forward, forehead resting against the wall as his breaths panted out. He licked his lips, closing his eyes, fought for control. "I... I need you, want you. My teeth ache for your blood, throb. They throb just like my cock throbs for you. You're blood, it's like the sweetest music to me, calls to me, teasing and taunting. Like a Siren calling to me with whispered promises of estacy." He hissed in a breath as he lifted his head, "my bloodlust and my lust ride me, making me crazy, I can barely hold back, barely keep from turning around and throwing you down, taking what I want and not caring how hard or if I ever stop, just needing it, needing you..." he whimpered, biting his lip.

God... only Sam could make it sound poetic and still damned hot. Feverish and damp with his own sweat, Dean thought he had a taste of what Sam was going through. Still stroking his lover's cock, he used his other hand to pull Sam's cheek to the side and found his hot tight hole with his tongue. He teased Sam, knowing all the nerve endings bundled right there would be sending his vampire messages that couldn't be ignored. He felt some powdery material fall on his shoulder, and guessed Sam was taking it out on the wall. "Shshsh, I got you," he whispered, shoving his tongue inside, working his way into Sam's perpetually tight hole.

Sam gasped, his fingertips clawing at the wall, the gaudy wallpaper shredding and tearing, plaster crumbing under his nails and raining down onto the floor. Head tilted back, he looked upward, eyes unfocused with lust and desire. "Ohmygod, ohmygod..." a groaned growl tore from Sam, loud and strong and frightening if someone were on the other side of the wall. His teeth ached so bad, his cock leaking precum, twitching and pulsing.

 

"Can't.....hold back.... much longer, Dean. Not strong... ENOUGH!" the last word torn from him in a near shouted growl as fingertips dug deep grooves into the wall, hips bucking of their own accord, breaths panting out. "When I can, I'm gonna hold you against the floor, I'm gonna sink my fangs so deep into you, drink you, touch you... oh God, I want to feel you so much, mark you... feel you writhing, aching for _me_ like I am for you..." another groaned growl tore from Sam as his hands moved against the wall, ripping and tearing at the paper, the plaster, struggling to find purchase, to grip something solid to center himself.

His own cock weeping with need, Dean tongue fucked Sam one last time before standing up and leaning in, his mouth over his lover's ear. "I'm right there with you, baby. Need you so bad... you don't even know." Glancing at the wall, he bit his lower lip and aligned himself to Sam's hole. It was gonna be so good... so fucking good. Though he liked making Sam do the talking, he could tell he'd already pushed the vampire to the edge and took pity on him, instead taking over. "Need to be inside you, need you squeezing me tight... need to be so close you won't know where you end and I start," he said.

Taking Sam slowly wasn't an option, not when they hadn't had sex for three day and he hadn't jerked off or anything. And not when they were playing a game that had gripped his imagination the instant Sam had told him his idea. "Oh God..." Gripping Sam's hips, he pushed inside in on strong thrust, burying himself balls deep in his lover and crying out at the sensations sweeping over him.

As Dean thrust into him, Sam pulled a hand back, doubled into a fist and punched the wall, more plaster rained down onto the floor, chunks of insulation, floated pink and cloud like to the floor with it. Sam let his forehead knock against the wall, breaths panting out, small whimpers leaving him. One trembling hand raised against the wall where it was still mostly together, palm spreading flat, as he closed his eyes, bit into his lip, drawing his own blood into his mouth, a small ribbon of red making it's way down his chin.

Sam's desperation was catching. It inflamed Dean's desires, made him go wild as he fucked Sam, whispering in his ear, telling him how good it felt to ride him, how he couldn't stop, that he was dying for this ... for Sam. "God... you're the one for me. Just you, just you," he kept repeated as he thrust so hard if Sam were human, he'd have felt him for days. "Mouth," he demanded, melding his to Sam's, tasting Sam's blood, and whispering he was almost ready to come.

Sam whimpered into Dean's mouth as he arched back against each of Dean's thrusts, reaching back to wrap an arm around Dean behind him, fingertips digging onto Dean's flesh as he felt his lovers body buck harder, felt his cock pulse inside him just before he was spilling into him, filling him. The sounds Dean made as he came, the way he arched and bucked erratically had Sam nearly cumming himself, but he wanted to wait, wanted to do it as soon while they were linked, wanted it to be like he's envisioned it, so he held off. Just barely managing, as he had to reach between himself and the wall, grabbing the base of his cock to hold himself back, hold off his own release even as his cock throbbed for it.

As soon as Dean finished, Sam turned, Dean's cock pulling free of him as he did. Sam nearly attacked him, tackling to the floor all pretense of gentleness gone. Sam was acting on blind instinct as he pinned Dean's body against the floor, his weight against Dean's legs after spreading them, so he could bite him there like Dean had said, it was the only coherent thought that remained. Remembering what Dean had asked him to do. He pinned Dean's wrists to the floor at his sides, head dipping between Dean's legs, his tongue darting out to run up Dean's inner thigh a second before his fangs were sinking into the femoral artery there. Sinking in deep as Sam's eyes closed tightly a moan working out of him, even as blood splashed over his tongue, filling his mouth before he swallowed it down, sucking in greedy gulps, his hips bucking hard and erratic against the floor between Dean's legs.

The way Sam wrestled him to the floor, Dean had to clamp down on his survival instincts, reminding himself that he'd triggered this on purpose, that it was natural for Sam to get possessive and treat him like a belonging until he satisfied his vampiric thirsts for blood and satisfaction. Sam's expression of sheer, tortured need, as he'd trapped his wrists and bent his head, stayed in Dean's mind.

"Oh God," he howled, arching up as Sam's teeth sank into his tender flesh. Then a familiar warmth spread through him, and he was struck by the full force of Sam's need for him. "Unghh," he squirmed, biting his lip and trying to deal with Sam's lust as well as his own, even when he was spent. 

 

 _Mine, mine, mine, mine, mine..._ it was the only thought that ran through Sam's mind as he drank swallow after swallow of Dean's blood, fucking himself against the floor with bruising force. His grip on Dean's wrists tightened so much that it would have shattered a normal human's bone, crushing them into dust. A low growl tearing from deep in Sam's throat.

"Holy hell, Sam..." Just like that, Dean's cock surged with arousal, only his hands were pinned and he couldn't help himself. _Yours, yours... only yours, yours Sammy, always,_ , he answered bucking up again and again. "Slow down... make it last... Sammy." Almost delirious, Dean forgot the difference it made when he spoke to Sam inside his head. A part of him was so lost in Sam's frenzy, he didn't care how far Sam went... he needed it, wanted it as badly as Sam did.

A snarl was Dean's only answer to his spoken words as Sam continued just as he had, thrusting hard and drinking deep of Dean's blood. And then heat was pooling in Sam's lower belly, his balls drawing up. He groaned low, and bucked hard once more before he was cumming hard his thrusts matting into the worn carpet beneath them. Sam's fingertips dug into Dean's flesh as he came, sensation after sensation crashing over him, a shout of pleasure muffled against Dean's leg, blood gurgling out around his lips, crimson ribbons running down the inside of Dean's leg where Sam didn't catch it as his orgasm sent him into a momentary mindlessness where he forgot to swallow.

As Sam careened off the edge, Dean was right there with him, feeling Sam's desperate thrusts against the carpet... the heat that obliterated all thought, even the instinct to drink, as Sam came hard. Dean followed right behind him, his cock spewing warm cum over his stomach. _Fuck... Sam... slow down... need to slow down drinking._

 

Calming once he was spent, Sam's grip on Dean's wrists loosened slightly, fingertips no longer digging hard into tender flesh as he returned to lapping up Dean's blood. _Ohgod..._ a soft whimper, _so good_ Sam shifted position slightly, pulling a hand away from one of Dean's wrists, to lay palm flat against Dean's abs. _Mmm... so good._

Hands free at last, Dean brought them to the back of Sam's head, playing with his hair, petting, making sounds of pleasure as Sam drank from him but in much smaller quantities. _Drove you too hard_ Dean said, not a shred of an apology in his mental thought. _Hurt good, hurt so damned good, Sam. Good thing you're not a siren or an incubus... cause hell, I don't think I'd have the will to fight you._

 

 _No, I'm something much much worse. I'm the vampire who loves you._ He continued to drink, tongue lapping against Dean's inner thigh even as he sucked the blood that ran from the wounds his fangs made. His hands moving slowly, caressingly over Dean's stomach and hips.

Dean raised his leg a little, pressing his wound to Sam's mouth and smiling. "You bet." He gave Sam another couple more moments, catching his own breath, then he looked down. "If you're done tongue fucking my wound, my mouth could use some attention." Grinning, he reinforced with a mental thought that it was time to stop.

 _I like tongue fucking your wound._ With a sigh against Dean's leg, Sam sucked in one last mouth full, then pulled off, catching his tongue on his fang once he had swallowed down Dean's blood and licking the wound to close it. Both cleaning off Dean's blood and leaving behind his own healing blood in the process.

 

Hands moving, palms flat against the floor, Sam crawled up Dean's body and slowly lowered himself onto him, though he kept the brunt of his weight off with one forearm as he leaned his head down, crushing his lips to Dean's, thrusting his tongue into his mouth and mimicking the motions he had used against the wound on Dean's leg.

Dean moaned as Sam practically made love to his mouth with long slow strokes of his tongue, and sucking motions that made Dean feel like he was about to come apart all over again. They kissed and kissed, hands roaming each others' bodies, Dean writhing under Sam until he rolled them over and took over the kissing. Hand cupping the side of Sam's face to give him control, Dean gave his lover one mind numbing kiss after the other, stopping only to breathe. When he finally lifted his head, he had a pained expression. "What if we can't stop... what if we can never stop," he asked, unable to believe his body was already demanding more.

Sam smirked, his head rolling to the side, "You mean what if we have sex into eternity?" he shook his head, "Never happen. I have to feed at some point, you know? I'd starve to death on the small amounts I take from you." He snickered, pulling Dean back down, immediately growing serious again, "but, we can pretend," he suggested, slanting his mouth back over Dean's as he pulled him in close and held him there, one hand on the back of Dean's head, one around his waist.

Sam wasn't going to mention the fact that there was also a bracelet that he wanted to get....

"Okay... let's pretend," Dean answered kissing his lover, tasting him all over again. Maybe he'd lied about them being quick...

 

* * *

 

They ended up leaving near check-out time (11AM), since Dean had been up half the night with Sam as they 'pretended' to fuck into eternity.

 

Sam had sat quietly at the table for a better part of the morning, studiously going through files on the computer and checking out this Miss Talbot, unaware that Dean already had. Sometime around nine, Bobby had called Sam's cell, which he thankfully had set to vibrate, so it didn't wake Dean.

 

They had talked, with Sam standing in the bathroom his voice hushed, for the better part of an hour. Apparently Bobby had called Bela and told her that Dean and Sam were on their way there, and what exactly they were interested in. Bobby had told Sam the price she was asking with a heavy hearted voice, apologising for the amount and telling him it was too damn bad, only to have Sam tell him, that it wasn't a problem. He'd heard clearly the sound of the elder hunter spew whatever he had been drinking.

 

Now, Sam stepped out of the motel room with the sun blazing high in the sky. He wore a hoodie, the hood of which he had drawn up and half covered his face with it, head bowed as he walked toward the Impala praying that no one spoke to him or stopped him for anything.

Dean had both their duffel bags so that Sam wouldn't stand around outside the car for too long. He went and paid for their room, leaving about five days worth of payment. When the guy at the reception looked at him, Dean just said "it's for the damage. My friend there... he's an animal, can't take him anywhere." Grinning, he walked out and went to put their stuff in the back.

 

Once he was seated in the passenger seat, Sam let out a breath of relief and looked over at Dean as he slid behind the wheel. "I talked to Bobby and I called Bela. She wants 2.5 million for the bracelet." Sam told him, jaw tense as he looked back out the windshield. After a moment Sam nodded, "I told her okay, that I'd take it."

"You fucking what? Million.... Million?" Okay, maybe he did look like some country yahoo with his mouth hanging open... or maybe he was one, but Sam had said... Dean snapped his mouth shut an arm draped over the steering wheel, banged his head down lightly. "No way... THAT is robbery. We're stealing it, and that's that."

Sam sighed, shaking his head. "No, Dean. We're not stealing anything. I can afford this. It's fine."

Dean turned to him. "Just because you can afford..." he stumbled over the word, for the first time understanding... really understanding the economic differences between them, a twinge of his old doubts raising its head, making him wonder what the hell Sam was doing with him of all people. Seeing Sam was waiting on him to finish his sentence, he added, "... doesn't mean you have to be a victim to her con."

Sam shrugged a shoulder and looked over at Dean. "It's only money."

"Yeah," he answered, almost numbly as he started the car. "You know, I was kidding when I said 'sugar daddy' to Bobby. But now..." 

Sam frowned at him, quirking a brow. "What is it? What's wrong?" he didn't know what it was he had said that had apparently upset Dean. Was it because he didn't want to steal what he could afford? If that was it... Sam huffed, that was just ridiculous. "Dean, I have more money than one person can spend in a lifetime and sure I have more than one lifetime to live, but I'll get more... it's not a big deal, really..."

"Yeah." Money or lack of it had never been anything he thought about. Until he met Sam Cullen. And then he compared what they had and found himself lacking. It wasn't even what Sam said or did, and Dean didn't know why these odd feelings kept getting stirred up. Maybe it was like they were out of balance, like Sam was stronger, faster, had money and Dean didn't see what he was offering the relationship other than plenty of sex.

"Yeah?" Sam quirked a brow and reached out to cup Dean's cheek, forcing him to look at him, "What's wrong? What did I do this time? I didn't say we were a couple. I didn't tell her I was a vampire. Hell, I think she was flirting with me," he frowned thoughtfully, then shook his head, as if shaking away the thought, "so _what_ did I do?"

"Nothing. Not a thing, Sam." Dean tried to ignore the woman's flirting, course she'd do that... lather up the client to get more bucks out of him. "It's not you, alright?" He pulled away and had no clue how he could explain what he was feeling. Sam had told him before it didn't matter, and he believed him. But even that didn't help him get over the vast difference between them.

 

Sam sighed, letting his hand fall. "Is it because you wanted to steal it? Had your heart set on that or something?" he shook his head, "Because if that's it, you _know_ how I feel about that. Hell, I won't even let you ga--" Sam stopped himself, eyes widening at his near blurting out that he hadn't let Dean really gamble but had paid the guys to lose to him. "Uh, I mean, I don't _like_ when you gamble, playing pool... that stuff just makes me uncomfortable."

"No, it's not because I want to steal it," he gave Sam a perplexed look over his gambling comment. "It's complicated, alright... even I don't get it." He blew out some air. "Okay, old rich woman and some young dude are together, what do you think? He's using her, right? I know I'm not, but fuck... it feels like I am. And now even my only semi-legit way of making money, gambling... and you don't approve of it. So... what does that make me? Some kind of hanger on, a user, a sponge?"

 

Sam smirked, "You're a cute sponge," he offered, biting back the snicker that wanted to come out, seeing how serious Dean was. He sighed softly and turned in the seat to face Dean better. "Listen, I don't care if you come with a pot of gold or a mountain of debt, because I just want _you_. When I fell in love with you, you were..." Sam huffed, "Well, you weren't old enough to have money one way or that other, but that's not the point." He ran a hand through his hair in exasperation. "You want to know what _I_ see when I see an old rich woman with a young guy? I see a woman who was lucky enough even in her old age to find some one who loves her. Some one that doesn't judge her." Sam shook his head, "because trust me, she doesn't care about her money. All she cares about is that the beautiful soul she has found really loves her for her." Sam told him, nodding, "that's what I see."

Dean's eyes filled with tears. "It's because you see the good side of stuff... not reality."

 

"As for your, um, so called semi-legit way to make money," he shrugged a shoulder, "it doesn't bother me anymore. It's fine with me as long as I go with you." He looked away for a few moments, to hide the truth in his eyes before looking back, "and that credit card fraud that you _think_ you have going," Sam shook his head with a grin, "paid in full and all the bills come to me at my parents house in Forks. I left Alice with instructions to pay them out of my trust fund any time we can't get back to do it."

"You what?!" Dean shouted. "I bought you stuff with that... you paid for it..." 

 

Sam opened his mouth to argue only to snap it closed again. What was he going to say to that?

For an instant, anger flashed in Dean's eyes. Then he started to laugh. "I can't win, can I? Not this..." He looked at Sam, then put his arm around him. "It's fine... It's fine Sam. I give up... I'm in love with a filthy rich old lady and we're leaving it at that." He moved his mouth over Sam's, pushing his hoodie back. "Or I'll be your gigolo... I don't care, I know why I'm with you, that's what matters."

Sam smiled, sighing in relief that Dean wasn't angry. "I could give you an allowance..." he smiled wider, dimples showing, "if you're a good boy." He slanted his mouth over Dean's again, one hand running over Dean's thigh.

"I'm always good, Sam, even when I'm bad," he smiled. "How about we gamble for it... no cheating..." he started to talk about teaching Sam how to play poker, cause he didn't want it to be like taking candy from a baby, when he cursed. "Manager's walking this way... fuck, must have looked in the room." Pulling away, he turned the car around and left the older man in the dust. "What? I left enough to cover the damage." He saw the look Sam was giving him. "I didn't leave ALL of it because that was enough to fix the whole damned motel up... and I didn't know you were THAT rich."

Sam sighed and hung his head.


	26. Chapter 26

They'd parked outside Bela's mansion and buzzed the front door. Dean smacked Sam's arm and pointed at the hidden camera he'd spotted, and was about to make one of his faces at it when Sam's fingers bit into his arm in warning. Right, he shouldn't fuck up Sam's chance at being able to walk outside in the direct sun without gathering attention. Sobering, he tugged on his tie. Yeah, they were both in suits since you couldn't make million dollar deals in jeans and tee shirts.

A low sexy voice, with a British accent told them to walk inside and go all the way upstairs. A buzz sounded, releasing the door.

As they walked inside, Dean was on the receiving end of a warning look from Sam. He returned it with a 'what the hell did I do?' look of his own. Instead of walking straight to the stairs though, Dean took a little tour of the downstairs, which looked like a museum. Paintings lined the walls, the wooden floors were covered with thick oriental carpets, and there were busts on pedestals and statues here and there. "Better than the museum in Seattle," he said, whistling. Ignoring Sam's look, he rushed to a shelf and started to chuckle at the tiny clay figurines having sex ten ways from Sunday, including group orgies. "Now THAT's what I call art."

Sam walked up behind him, frowning darkly, "Remind me to make you watch Caligula," he muttered, "can we go? Please? I want that bracelet and I believe the woman who has it is waiting up there," he jutted his chin toward the upper landing of the stairs, "and _not_ down here looking at her ancient statues of orgies."

Reluctantly, Dean followed him up the stairs. "No wonder she's got like a dozen cams," he muttered. 

Sam frowned over at him, "Yeah, for people like you." As they reached the top of the landing, standing in front of the wooden double doors, Sam reached out and straightened Dean's tie. "Stop fidgeting, and don't touch... anything," Sam told him, reaching for the door handle and tugging the door open.. 

Bela Talbot sat behind a large cherry wood desk, form leaned back in her chair, her dark hair falling around her shoulders in soft waves, her lips stained a soft strawberry and shiny, blue eyes twinkling as she looked up at them. "Dean Winchester and Sam Cullen I presume?" she asked, her speech heavy with a British accent. Her lips curved into a seductive smile as she pulled to her feet, her tight low cut blue dress showing off her assets. She moved to sit on the corner of her desk, "Much better than most of my clientele," she muttered, allowing her gaze to rake over first one and then the other. One hand that lay against the wood top of her desk slid behind what appeared to be a photograph, concealing a small handgun, as she kept her gaze locked with theirs.

Dean gave her an appreciative smile, "Bela Talbot. You were wrong Sam, she looks nothing like a leathery old auctioneer," he said, knowing based on Bobby's warning, the best thing would be to make the exchange and get out. Approaching her, he asked. "Got the bracelet with you?" 

"I would never say that... I didn't say that you were..." Sam turned his head and frowned angrily at Dean, "Dean, dammit..."

Bela eyed the one called Dean as he approached her, a small smile pulling at her lips, "My my, aren't you the complimentary one." She looked him up and down again, running the tip of her tongue over her top lip as she shrugged, "I don't know, I've had other offers for it since I talked to Bobby." her gaze narrowed, her tone losing it's flirting demeanor as she spoke again. "The price just went up." 

Sam huffed, "Great, Dean. Good work." He looked at Bela, offering her an apologetic half smile, "Whatever it is, I'll pay it." 

Bela's eyes widened slightly as she looked at Sam, "Really? Important to you is it?" she asked him.

Dean almost groaned out loud. He should have told Sam to let him handle the negotiations.

Sam nodded. "Well, yeah, it is." 

She smiled wider, "Five and a half million..." she paused to look back at Dean, "and him. One night of hot angry sex." she smirked seductively, "I like it rough." 

Sam took a step forward, side stepping in front of Dean, "No deal. Six million and no Dean."

It took Dean a second to figure out what the hell they were talking about, then he pushed Sam out of the way, his eyes blazing. "You like it rough, I know a couple bars, try them sometime sweetheart. Now we had a fucking deal," he raised his voice. "Two point five, and you agreed. Now cough up the bracelet, get paid, and we can all go home happy."

Bela glared at Dean, " _That_ was before I had other offers. I'm a business woman. It's how I put food on the table." She quirked a brow, "Wouldn't want me to starve now would you?" 

Her gaze went back to Sam, "Seven million and one night."

"What the hell, you fucking went up from your last offer... Sam," he turned to the vampire who had no fucking idea what he was doing.

"Seven and a half, no night." Sam countered. 

Bela smirked, "Eight million and a half a night." 

Sam shook his head, smirking back, "Nine and..." his eyes narrowed, "you can have me." 

Bela's eyes widened, as her brows rose, "The plot thickens and the wager gets interesting." she clicked her tongue, "I've heard about him, lets see you." 

Sam frowned at her, "Excuse me?" 

Bela sighed and shrugged a shoulder, "You heard me, drop 'em. I like to see that I'm getting my monies worth."

Dean crossed his arms, fuming. "Yeah Sam, drop 'em." Seeing the red flush creeping up Sam's cheeks, he pushed him, and walked up to the table, putting both hands on it and leaning so he was in her face. "You listen. Take three million, that's ALL we're offering. Each time your Goddamned demand goes up..." he pulled back, and whipped the gun out of his back, shooting an antique chandelier down. The ear shattering crash and mess that was left on the ground was his warning. "You can consider the $500,000 as pre-payment for that." Cocking his gun, he took aim at another art piece.

Bela quirked a brow at Dean, looking rather bored, "You don't think I keep the real stuff here do you? With crazy, not to mention rather _poor_ hunters like you crawling around?" she chuckled and shook her head, "if I did that, one of you might steal something just so you could eat tomorrow. Oh wait... you have your credit card fraud for that." she mocked, then looked over at Sam, "I want a wire transfer. I don't trust hunters," she looked back at Dean, "I know none of you have a pot to piss in," she sneered before looking back at Sam. "Now what was the agreement again? Twelve million? Even?" she quirked a brow. 

Sam gave her a curt nod, "Fine."

"Fine." Dean grit out, having no choice in light of Sam's agreement, and his 'no pot to piss in' status. "Sam, use your own lap top." He knew a thing or two about fraud, and the minute Sam got on her computer, he was sure her equipment would be grabbing his bank account and password information. "You... get the bracelet." His voice was as hard as his eyes. 

Sam nodded to Dean's advice to use his own lap top, and was about to turn to leave to do so, but stopped, looking back and frowning, "Is it here?" 

Bela smirked, tearing her eyes from Dean's to look over at him, "It's been sitting right in front of both of you the entire time." she pulled her hand back from the gun she had had her hand on and lifted her arm, showing the black bracelet with the silver charm woven into it. "Now, my money?"

"Sam, get the lap top. You... change your looks, lets see it work." He had researched the bracelet and knew that if it worked as it should, then a simple mental command from the person wearing it would work for twelve hours on, and twelve hours off, until the command changed.

Bela watched Sam pull open the door and step out before returning her gaze to Dean, "Saucy boy, just wanted to get us alone? I could have done that." she told him, leaning forward. As she did, her appearance changed to that of a large breasted blond. "Is this better?" she asked him, reaching out to run a hand up his side.

Dean gave a laugh that sounded more like a grunt. "It works, all that's important. Hope your twelve million keeps you warm at night." He was still pissed at getting taken and had half a mind to point that gun at her forehead and make her give the bracelet up for the original price she'd agreed to, but it was Sam's deal, and he didn't want to fuck it up.

Bela smiled slowly as she leaned in more, her mouth near his, lips ghosting against his as she spoke. "I think I still want my one night." she told him softly, "what if I drop the price half a mill for your friend there? Hmm?" she asked as one hand slid across the desk, back behind the picture once more to grasp the gun in her hand. Slowly and carefully, so that it was silent, she pulled back the hammer, cocking it.

"Sleep with you for half a mill, don't think so baby, you can't afford me," he ground out. He heard Sam's footsteps. "Just make the fucking deal, and let's get it over with."

She moved quick, whipping the gun out as she pulled back, pointing it at Dean's forehead. "Pity, you're gonna dirty my rug."

"Sonova..." Shit, why hadn't he guarded against this. Why had he underestimated her? "Listen..." Just as he stared, he heard Sam walk in. "Sam," he pointed without seeing his lover. "Don't move." He took a deep breath. "You want your money or not." 

Sam froze in mid-step at what he saw, and then Dean's words simply had him narrowing his eyes at Bela Talbot, a low growl sounding deep in his chest. "You can put that away, or I can put it away for you. I have the laptop." 

Bela ignored Sam, "One night, and I won't blow your brains out and I'll lower the price down a cool mill. Do we have a deal?" she asked Dean softly.

"Shut up Sam," he said, before the Vampire opened his mouth. "Five million, and you get _both of us_ , all night long... you'll have the time of your life, I guarantee it." Slowly, he ran his hand up the side of her body, resting his palm against the curve of her breast. "Sam's tongue can do some amazing things. Lock it down, while it's on the table."

Bela's lips curved upward as her form shifted back into her own. "So I'm suppose to believe that a night with you and tall, dark and brooding," she nodding her head to the side toward Sam, "is worth five million?" she tilted her head, "and what's to say that as soon as I put this gun away you aren't gonna cry wolf?" she quirked a brow, glancing over at Sam, then back at Dean, "your friend looks pretty pissed..." she shrugged, "or constipated." 

Sam had almost not recognised _who_ the hell the blond was with the gun to Dean's head, almost. Now as he watched her change back into her rightful look, he at least knew that the bracelet worked and wasn't just a legend. He still couldn't believe what he was hearing come out of Dean's mouth. Not only was Dean going to sleep with her, but he had added _him_ into the mix? A threesome? No way. Uh-uh. Wasn't happening. "Dean..." Sam said his name, a clear warning in the clipped tones and the near growled way he spoke.

"You're gonna have to trust me, however the deal goes down. Your terms or mine, either way, it leads to that bedroom where we're going to be unarmed. Makes no difference if it's just me or both of us, either one of us can take you, and you know it. You also know people, I'm guessing. Now I get why you might not believe me, but look at Sam. He grew up on 'a deal's a deal.' He says 'yes,' and you can bank on it." Dlowly turning his head so the barrel was now pressed to his temple and not forehead, he pleaded with Sam with his eyes. "Tell her yes, Sam. Five mill, and the both of us, one night. Just say it."

Sam opened his mouth to argue, to tell them both 'no fucking way', only to snap it closed again, jaw clenched. He could see Dean was playing her, _how_ exactly, he had no idea, it sure as hell didn't _look_ like Dean was in any position to be playing anyone. Teeth gritted together, Sam's darkened golden hazel eyes met Bela's blue gaze and he nodded, "Fine. Deal. You have my word." 

Bela smiled and pulled the gun from Dean's temple. "Pleasure doing business with you both." she said with a small smile as she laid the gun down beside her then pulling herself from the desk, she walked over toward Sam, only to take the laptop from his hands and set it down. Stepping closer, she leaned in and looked over her shoulder at Dean, "Are you there to take the blackmail photos or are you coming over?"

Sam kept his hands to himself as he looked over at Dean, giving him a 'what _now_?' look as he swallowed hard.

"Nothing like the present." Walking over with a grin, Dean smacked Sam's ass, like it belonged to him. "One round of sex, then the banking, and you hand over the bracelet, then we party the rest of the night." Without waiting for an answer, he moved to her wet bar and started helping himself, pouring a whiskey. "You want one?" At her nod, he poured her one, and returned to hand it to her. "Why don't you get into something more comfortable and call us when you're ready?" Already, he was loosening his tie and looked relaxed as compared to Sam's stiff stance. 

Bela smiled at Dean. "So the rumors are true." She nodded, glancing at Sam then looking back at Dean, "Maybe he could use a drink... or five," she suggested as she made her way to the double doors and out.

"Oh, I'm sure one look at you and he'll loosed up in all sorts of ways you wouldn't believe. His tongue.. it's legendary," Dean told her.

Sam watched her go, waiting until the doors closed behind her before turning his angry gaze on Dean. "Really? Money means this much to you?" he asked him, brow furrowed at the very idea of what Dean had made him agree to. "I thought you had a plan," he eyed Dean's loose tie, "apparently it was a plan on how to get a piece of ass... not mine." he narrowed his eyes as they slowly darkened before Dean's gaze to inky blackness. 

Ignoring Sam's outburst, he reached out and started to loosen Sam's tie, muttering under his breath, "Cameras." When he'd tossed it across the back of a chair, he passed Sam his drink. "Pretend." He didn't miss the fact that Sam's knuckles turned white around the glass, and was too aware of the fact it could shatter at any moment. "Money doesn't mean shit to me. You getting your bracelet, does." He took the glass back. "Try to smile, and don't show any fang."

"Smile? You want me to _smile_!? Are you insane!?" Sam huffed, shook his head, "I had the bracelet before you had to go all Romeo on her!" he huffed again, reaching up to unbutton the top button of his shirt, suddenly feeling stifled by it. "Pretend," he muttered, "pretend my ass." he glared at Dean, "I just can't believe you," he hissed, eyes narrowed angrily. "Oh wait, I'm suppose to _smile_ , I forgot." Sam smiled then, a deadly, hate-filled one he directed at Dean, but at least it didn't show any fang.

"You had nothing. You got her started with 'name your price,'" Dean shot back, smiling sweetly for the cameras and shaking his hand, like he was saying Bela was hot. Which truthfully, if she weren't as cold as a fish, she was quite hot, but he wasn't telling Sam that. "Did you miss the gun on my forehead when you came back?" He sensed Sam getting wound up. "Whoa... Sam don't blow this. I am not interested in her, I just want what we came for. Hear me out."

Sam grit his teeth, keeping his 'smile' in place, "Did you forget I could have taken that thing away from her without even trying?" he crossed his arms over his chest, "I AM NOT sleeping with her," he narrowed his eyes at Dean, "and you can't make me."

"Uncross your arms, goddamit. And if you DO sleep with her, I'm staking your sorry ass." He started unbuttoning his shirt. "You're going to follow my lead, and when the time is right, you're gonna bite her... put her in a trance like you used to do to me. She'll never know the difference, and we'll be out of here with the bracelet AND the money."

Sam slowly uncrossed his arms as he looked at Dean, thinking over what he said and slowly quirked a brow. "Oh, so _now_ you _want_ me to bite someone else." Sam nodded, stepping away from him as he raised a hand to run through his hair. "Uh-huh, I see," he muttered, his back to Dean as he reached around and started to unbutton his shirt more, "Well, okay, if you _insist_." Dean wanted to play games, he could play too. Stake him. He huffed to himself. Him and what army? He had to catch himself from rolling his eyes. "And no, I'm still paying her the five we agreed on, it's only fair." 

"We'll see--" Dean's words were cut off as he turned at the sound.

The double doors opened and Bela walked in wearing a tiny black teddie, silk with little white ruffles along the edges and black stilleto heels accentuating her long shapely legs. She glanced down at her shoes as she watched Dean's eyes rake over her and smiled, "wanted to be closer to his height standing," she nodded toward Sam. 

Sam looked her over, jaw clenching as he looked from Bela to Dean. He slid his suit coat off and took off his dress shirt, tiny pearl buttons, ones he hadn't undone raining down onto the floor as he yanked it open, his gaze still locked with Dean's.

Dean's gut clenched, wishing those buttons were falling because Sam wanted him, and not because he was angry about this charade. Steeling himself, he slid into his old persona, leering at her as he walked around her and gave a whistle. "Sizzling hot, and without a glamor," he said approvingly, putting his arm around her waist and drawing her close so her back rested against his chest as he dipped his head and skimmed his mouth over her throat and shoulders, keenly aware that the minute he was aroused, Sam would know.

Sam's jaw was clenched, his back ridged, eyes narrowed and inky black, not in arousal, but in anger as he watched Dean. He barely kept the snarl that wanted to come out under wraps and had to busy his hands so he wouldn't jerk her away from what was his. Instead he shrugged out of his shirt, tossing it onto the floor, leaving his white V-neck tee.

Dean felt her relaxing in his arms, reacting to his touch, her nipples hardening and straining against the thin material she was wearing. He felt his own body start to react and knew he had to move quickly. "Sam come here and kiss her." Dean moved his mouth over the shell of her ear, "he's a bit shy, but wait till he gets warmed up. Sam?"

Sam slowly walked the few steps over to where Dean and Bela stood, standing in front of Bela, though he ignored the scorch of her blue gaze as his dark eyes locked with green. "You _want_ me to kiss her?" the challenge in Sam's eyes was hard to miss.

"That's right... kiss her, with me. Like the little clay statues downstairs," he said, thickly, moving his hand up Bela's side and rubbing his thumb over her nipple, before she caught on to the undercurrents between himself and Sam.

Sam gave a curt nod, tearing his gaze from Dean's to look down into Bela's. He took a step forward, hand coming up to cup her face as he leaned in slanting his mouth over hers at first softly, then slighly harder as his hand moved from her face, running down the side of her body Dean wasn't touching. It was then that he felt Dean lean in, kissing her with him and a low growl worked it's way out of him, his eyes opening, glaring at Dean as he continued to kiss her himself.

Bela sighed into the kiss, as she reached back to wrap one arm around Dean's neck the other she reached out and wrapped around Sam's, grinding herself between them and moaning. Sam was definitely shy, unlike Dean who was exactly like the rumors she had heard, but Sam seemed to be waming up if the _growl_ meant anything.

Dean's eyes widened at the cold, almost terrifying look on Sam's face as he warned him off. If he hadn't seen that look before, he might have interpreted it as a warning not to interfere with his kissing of Bela. But he had, when Sam had practically torn the safe rooms door off and seen the woman that was with Dean. He was warning Dean not to kiss her. Well how the hell was he supposed to do that and get away with this trick?

Leaning in again, he let his mouth touch Bela's, but used his tongue to paint over the side of Sam's upper and lower lips, delving inside for just a heartbeat. As he gave his tongue to Sam, he distracted her by cupping her breast and squeezing, swallowing hard when she pressed herself to him. Her hands had started to wander, and he wasn't sure how much Sam could or would take, so he started to plan how this could go down. 

Bela moaned as Dean cupped her breast, pressing her ass back against his groin, her hand moved from around his neck, siding around to his ass, then forward to cup him through his dress pants before slipping her hand upward fumbling with the hook and zipper as her other hand moved to do the same on Sam.

That was it, Sam had had enough. He was suppose to bite her and he was going to. Reaching out with one hand he shoved Dean away from her, as he slanted his mouth over hers, and grabbed her by the waist, picking her up off her feet, as he continued to kiss her. Her legs wrapped around his hips as his arms locked around her, holding her against him as he moved, walking them both toward the couch. Bela's arms wrapped around him, one hand fisting in his hair.

As Dean stumbled backwards, he raised his face and was treated to the sight of Bela's ankle's locked around Sam as she writhed in his arms, and he kissed the hell out of her. Letting out a couple of hot breaths, he tried not to be jealous. Act, it was an act. He'd told Sam to do this, he kept saying to himself, but a part of him found the _act_ too convincing, and another part of him knew whether it was an act or not, his body had responded... and if his had, Sam's had to be right now, as she rubbed herself against his groin. Almost swearing, he followed them.

Walking to the couch, Sam crashed them down on it, Bela on her back, careful not to let his weight fall on her, as he continued to kiss her, even as her hands moved to tug up his tee. Sam opened his eyes and glared over at Dean before closing them again, as he continued to kiss her senseless, then he tore his mouth away, her breaths panted out as he dipped his head against her throat and sank his fangs in.

If it had been porn flick, Dean would totally have been turned on. But seeing _his_ vampire with another woman had the opposite effect. He wanted to tear Sam away, though unlike Sam he was able to control himself and stand there. And take it. And take it some more. It had been his idea, he knew that Goddamit, but watching Sam bite her, give her what was only _his_ , he wanted to take it all back. Wanted to throw the goddamned bracelet in her face and tell her to forget it. His hands clenched and unclenched as he listened to her moans and watched her slowly slide into a trance.

As Sam's fangs sank into tender flesh, and blood, sweet human blood, other than Dean's spilled into his mouth, he knew how vampires could become addicted. A low growl tore from deep in his throat as one hand against the leather couch curled into a fist, the other moved up and down Bela's silk clad side. He should stop, it was enough, and yet still he drank. Dean would tell him when he had to stop, right? He didn't have to worry, didn't have to count her heartbeats. He could just drink and savor.... 

Bela writhed under this man who had been brooding one minute, only to turn into a sex machine the next. And then his lips were at her neck, soft and nearly caressing her skin before she had felt the sharp twinge of pain. She didn't have time to think about it however, as blackness tugged at the edges of her vision and then she was caught up in a world of rapture, where _she_ had all the money, all the power and all the love of men that she could handle. She moaned and arched against Sam, though she no longer knew it. Her lips moving in an incoherent babble of words.

"Okay you're done." Dean's jaw pulsed as his lover completely ignored him and continued to practically make love to her. "Enough. Sam. Sam! Sonov..." He strode, over and tugged him up, tearing him off Bela. "Close the wound, get the bracelet and your lap top," he snapped, "and take your hands off her."

Sam was lost in a world of bloodlust. It wasn't like when he was with Dean, but it was still hard to fight his way out of, just as overwhelming. It wasn't until Dean tore him away from the source of blood that Sam's fogged mind started to clear, thankfully he knew enough as he looked up at Dean through coal black eyes, not to snarl at him for having ripped him away.   
Slowly he looked back down at the woman writhing on the couch and ran a hand through his hair. It was funny, he didn't even remember staying there that long after the initial bite, but apparently, if the snippish tone from Dean meant anything, he had. Not that it was _his_ fault. This had been all Dean's idea. Leaning back over the woman, Sam ran his tongue over his fang and allowed himself to bleed on the wound as he dipped his head one last time. Pulling back, he reached for her wrist, slipping the bracelet off her and onto him. "Thanks, Bela," he told her softly, reaching for his laptop as he pulled to his feet. 

Turning, he walked toward the door, looking back over his shoulder at Bela, then over at Dean, "Think we should cover her with a blanket?" 

"I think you should get the lap top and put it away," Dean snapped, quickly undoing her teddy, and pulling it off her shoulders as she muttered, calling Sam's name and asking him to put his tongue between her legs. Grinding his teeth, he rushed to get the clothes off faster, before he committed any violence.

"You know, if I knew we had to undress her I could have done that when I was biting her," Sam offered, quirking a brow as he watched. He shook his head, "It must be only the sex maniacs, cause I _really_ don't think everyone I bite had visions of having sex with me." He looked at Dean, "I think it's just you two." Glancing down at the lap top tucked under his arm, he added, "I'll pay her later. Remind me."

"You're NOT paying her." Finishing, Dean pulled one high heeled shoe off her and put it on the wet bar. A moment later, he'd poured a half bottle of some fancy-assed champagne that probably cost her a fortune down the drain, then poured some more into the shoe. Yeah, place would look like they'd partied.

Sam watched Dean and sighed, "You know, she'll probably dream it anyway. Just like she'll probably dream that someone cleaned the place up. I don't think all this is necessary." Once Dean looked like he had finished, Sam reached down and grabbed up his suit coat, "Can we go now? And why are you... pissy? This was _your_ dumb idea."

Dean shot him a look that spoke volumes, but didn't say a word. Striding away, he went through the door she'd come out of, grabbed the cream colored silk sheets on her bed and dragged them off. When he returned, he tossed the sheets over her, gave Sam another dissatisfied look, and picking up his tie, pulled his shirt closed and headed down the stairs.

Taking the stairs two at a time, he didn't stop at the ground floor but instinctively went down to the basement level. There, he easily found the security room, where the video tapes were stored. Quickly, he found the tape showing their 'activities' and deleted not only those parts, but all parts featuring himself and Sam. He didn't need her dreaming about his vampire, or keeping his pictures or whatever the fuck she might want to do when she woke in the morning.

Sam remained silent the rest of the time Dean worked at 'his plan', and managed to sigh only a handful more times at having to wait for him to get around to leaving. Finally they were heading back toward the front doors of Bela's house and Sam couldn't be more grateful. "Dean..." he pressed his lips together as he looked over at him while they walked, then sighed hard "do you want to tell me what it is I did this time to make you angry? Because I _obviously_ did _Something_!"

Sam's innocent look set Dean's teeth on edge. "You didn't do anything. You were great. Awesome. Wonderful _performance_ ," he ground out, and stalked right past towards the car.

Sam came to a stop beside the Impala, looking from it to Dean and back in confusion before sighing once again and quickly ditching his laptop inside to chase after Dean. Sam caught up with him in the next instant, walking backward in front of him. "Well, something is wrong," he tilted his head to the side, "I know because you just passed your car." Sam nodded behind them toward where the the Impala waited. "Dean... I did what you told me to do. I didn't like you touching her," he gave Dean a pointed look, "you were getting aroused," he told him matter-of-factly, eyes narrowing before he shrugged a shoulder, "So I just hurried things up a bit, it still worked out the same. Got the bracelet."

"The hell I..." he blinked. He really had passed the car, which wasn't easy as there were only three cars in front of the house. "Shit." Cursing again, he started to turn, but then he pointed at Sam. "That was no performance Sam. I know the difference. Now stop bringing it up before I leave your ass here and go for a drink."

Sam grit his teeth as he looked at Dean, and nodded. "You're right, it wasn't. I bit her and drank from her _for real_. I'm a vampire, Dean. You think I can just bite someone without bloodlust? You think I can just _do that_ and not feel anything?" his eyes narrowed, "Well, you're wrong. But, I did what _you_ told me to do. I didn't _want_ her, but I _drank_ from her like you told me, so yeah, I _felt_ that. The rest of it _was_ an act, unlike you with your arousal that I could smell, or did you forget that!?"

"That's bullshit." He remembered worrying about getting aroused, but wasn't sure whether he'd gone so far... maybe he had a little. Thinking back, he made a face. "You don't know anything. You don't know how you looked popping those buttons off your shirt and looking at me... so don't fucking tell me what I was feeling or _over who_. This topic is closed now. We're not talking about it, we're not bring it up again, not ever." Turning, he walked back to the car and opened the trunk. Hardly caring who might see, or if any of the external cams would catch the action, he started to change into normal clothes. 

Sam followed Dean back to the car, coming around to the back of the Impala and grabbing hold of Dean's arm as he did, pulling and pushing him up against the back of the car, until he had him half bent over backward, Dean's upper body inside the trunk where Sam grabbed his wrists and pinned them against the fake flooring of the trunk that covered the guns as he pressed his body against Dean's, pinning him there. He narrowed his eyes as he leaned down, lips near Dean's. "You can be mad that your plan didn't go the way you wanted, that what you thought would be funny reached around and bit you in the ass, but do _not_ be mad at me for this. You know what I am, Dean. Blood. That's all I saw in there. That's all it was for me," golden hazel eyes roamed over Dean's face, "unlike some people." He spoke those words more softly, nearly sadly. 

At this fucked up angle, Dean couldn't have pushed Sam away even if Sam hadn't had vampire strength. So he was stuck there, listening to his goddamned lecture, not wanting to believe any of it, until Sam's tone went from lecturing to a giving off hint of sadness. Dean's eyes widened slightly, his throat convulsing. "I didn't like her Sam. That's probably the _only_ reason she liked me," he said. "She was just the _mark_ in a con. That's all it was to me." He didn't flinch away from Sam's gaze.

Sam's gaze didn't change as he continued to look down into Dean's face, golden hazel eyes just continued to roam over his features as he spoke. "Mm-hm, and at first, she was someone that I was doing business with... until you made it something else.... and then she became my enemy the second you touched her. After that, all I saw was the blood that pumped through her veins." Sam told him, turning his head slightly, ever so slowly and brushing his lips along Dean's jawline then dipping down further. "Of course," Sam continued, voice deep, husky, soft, "it was like having root beer after having had Absinthe." His mouth closed over Dean's jugular, though he didn't sink his fangs in, only suckled the skin into his mouth. "No comparison," he whispered deep as he pulled his mouth just slightly off Dean's neck, his lips still tickling the sensitive flesh as he spoke. 

Dean's arms strained as he held his position, his gaze, his senses, his very being focused on one thing only, Sam... what he was saying, how he was practically making love to him without touching, then the light touch of teeth and lips on the sensitive skin of his throat drew a moan from him. He swallowed, his throat convulsing under Sam's mouth, his heart thundering against his chest. "You mean it?" he asked, unable to believe how weak his voice sounded.

Sam's lips curved into a smile against Dean's throat. "Mmm...of course, I mean it." he murmured softly before his tongue darted out to lick across the skin of Dean's neck above his jugular. "Nothing is better than you." He nuzzled there, sucking skin into his mouth and scraping his teeth across. "you should know that."

"The way you picked her up..." the sensations radiating from where Sam's mouth teased and played with him made Dean lose his train of thought. Turning his head only slightly he drew in his lover's heady scent and was even more lost. 

"Hmm?" Sam made the sound of question, against Dean's neck as he ran his tongue along the flesh, then pressed down, feeling the blood flowing under his tongue. Allowing himself that moment of bliss that spiked up his bloodlust. "What about it?" he asked softly, voice deep and husky. His hands slid from Dean's wrists upward, to lace the fingers of both hands with his own two.

"Mmmm... can't think... can't think when you do that," he protested, feeling his pulse jumping under Sam's tongue. "I... I don't know, you looked like you couldn't wait. Like when you jump me through the window cause you don't want to wait..." Sam's breath was fanning over his already highly sensitized skin and sending his blood rushing through his system. Dean tried to chase Sam's mouth with his, but his lover was still concentrating on his throat.

Sam made a very soft 'meh' sound, barely shrugging one shoulder. "Maybe I couldn't wait..." when he felt Dean tense, he chuckled softly, "Shshsh, not like you think. I couldn't wait to get away from her. Couldn't wait to get _you_ away from her. Had to really fight myself not to tear her apart a few times..." he ran his tongue over Dean's flesh, blew softly across the wet area, then raked his teeth along the same spot, "but then, you already knew that.... didn't you?" 

"Ah...Fuck Sam, I can't think... I..." he shook his head. "Where'd you learn these new moves anyway," he demanded. "Way you picked her up, movie star style and now... what you're doing to me?"

Sam chuckled, pausing in his ministrations for a moment before continuing, "I, uh," he flexed his fingers in their joined hands, suddenly uncomfortable with the conversation. "I learned it from TV. You were asleep.... I wound up watching a 'Sex and the City' marathon."

"You watch Sex in the City? You're such a chick." Tightening his own fingers around Sam's he finally had to admit, "I can't hold this backwards bend much longer, babe. If you want me like this, we'll need to look into some... equipment." He was only half joking cause all he knew was that Sam was teasing him and he couldn't do a damned thing about it.  
Sam sighed softly, "Fine," he muttered, pulling back, but keeping his fingers locked with Dean, effectively hauling him upright too. He yanked Dean forward by their joined hands, then, releasing Dean's hands, Sam bent just slightly, wrapping his arms around Dean's waist and picked him up off his feet the way he had done Bela. "Now, what _equipment_ is there exactly?" 

"Sam!" Dean self consciously cleared his throat, though he wasn't displeased cause in his mind it was like taking back what Sam had given to Bela. "You haven't found the internet sites? Where you taking me?" He couldn't wait any longer, so he put his hands on either side of Sam's face and slanted his lips over Sam's mouth. "Sorry about... I was jealous," he admitted, kissing him lightly. "... and angry..." he kissed again, just a little deeper. "I never thought I'd be like this, over anyone." With the last admission, he plastered himself over Sam and pushing his tongue into his mouth, tangling their tongues together and holding Sam's face in place. His... Sam was his.

Sam started to walk as they kissed, walking around to the side of the car facing away from Bela's property. With one hand he released his hold around Dean long enough to open the back door of the Impala before wrapping it around him once more, deepening the kiss, even as he bent his legs at the knees, one hand sliding up Dean's back to rest at the nape of his neck, before he ducked them both inside the open door and pushing off with his feet so that they slid up the seat enough that all that was hanging out were their feet.... well, Dean's ankles and feet and a bit of Sam's calves, ankles and feet, but it was good enough. 

Laying there on the backseat of the Impala, legs tangled together, arms wrapped around his love, Sam kissed Dean until he knew Dean needed to stop for air. "Angry?" Sam asked quirking a brow a small smirk tugging at the corner of his lips as he shook his head. "That wasn't angry. _I_ was angry." He grinned wider, "You should have felt what I did to her neck. It wasn't very nice." He shrugged a shoulder, "it was better than my other idea of tearing her head off. We still would have gotten the bracelet that way, but it would have been much harder to explain than her bruised neck will be tomorrow." He bit his lip, looking every bit like a naughty kid, "I only closed the wounds." he shook his head, "I didn't heal the bruises." He giggled like a kid before frowning, "And I _do not_ taste like a truffle," he grumbled. 

Dean ran his hands up and down Sam's back, holding him tight as he wiggled slightly to find more comfortable position. He snorted at Sam's trick. "I don't believe that, you're a 'do-gooder-vamp'" he pronounced, leaning up and nibbling Sam's strong jaw line. When Sam made the mistake of telling him what he tasted like to Bela, a wave of displeasure coursed through Dean. "I _hate_ truffles," he said, never mind that he didn't think he'd ever had one. am's weight pressing down on him was causing his body to react. It wasn't just his mouth that was burning for kisses anymore. "You... ah... know that having sex in public is illegal," he asked, lifting his hips despite his words.

Sam narrowed his eyes at Dean, "I am _not_ a do-gooder-vamp. I can be just as bad as any of the rest of the,." he informed him with a nod, "I mean... if I really wanted to.... if there was a reason for it. I mean, why would anyone be mean for no apparent reason?" Okay, he was talking himself right out of that one, but that wasn't the point. He ground his hips down against Dean's. "Illegal, you say? Well, maybe it's high time I show you just how very bad a vamp I can be" he suggested, dipping his head and slanting his mouth over Dean's as he thrust his hips, grinding their groins together. 

"Jesus!" The sudden rush of heat had Dean digging his fingers into his lover's back and meeting his slow thrusts half way. "You're my personal Dudley-do-right," he nodded, escaping Sam's mouth for a second. "I just gotta corrupt you, hmm? Starting right now," he slid one hand behind Sam's head and forced him down harder, crushing their mouths together as he took control of the kiss, using every fucking sinful move he knew to get Sam hot in thirty seconds flat.

Sam growl/groaned into Dean's mouth as he kissed him back, followed Dean's lead, copying every move Dean made, concentrating to make it just as good, just as perfect. He didn't even realize when his fingertips began to dig into the flesh of Dean's shoulders. Sam moved a hand away from Dean's shoulder, slid it down his side, across his hip, stretched to run it over Dean's upper thigh, all the while continuing the kiss. His hand ran back up, slipping between them to the fly of Dean's dress pants that Dean had already opened when Sam had stopped him at the trunk. Sam dipped his hand into Dean's pants, under his boxers, curling his hand around Dean's length to squeeze gently, thumb ghosting over the tip, and all the while kissing the hell out of him. Sam thrust his hips against Dean's body, his hand starting to move slightly on Dean's cock under his pants, Sam's other hand gripping Dean's shoulder tighter as a deep growl sounded in Sam's throat. Only then did Sam pull his head back, breaking the kiss. "Did you say something about teaching me something?" Sam asked him, not out of breath in the least.

"Don't stop... don't stop," Dean pleaded, "you... you've got it just right... oh God... Sammy," his voice sank an octave as he lifted his hips, trying to fuck Sam's fist. "That's it... that's it..." When he was sure Sam wasn't stopping, he ran his hands over Sam's ass, squeezing him, then moving one down the cleft of his ass and rubbing the sensitive spot between his hole and sack, right over the thin material of his slacks. "Wanted to do you on her piano. I'm sure she had to have one somewhere," he groaned at the thought of Sam spreading his arms across the width of a piano.

Sam was moaning, kissing and licking the flesh of Dean's neck, teasing him as his hand slowly worked his cock in his pants. His breath hissing and catching at each touch of Dean's hand in sensitive places on his body. "Piano sex...?" Sam nodded, "We can do that. Our own piano. I'll buy you one. Build you a room out back just for it." Sam lifted his head and grinned down at Dean, "but only if I can tie you up with piano wire." At the look on Dean's face Sam scoffed, "Don't be such a baby, it can't hurt you."

"You're kidding, right?" he was unsure even as he asked, but another lusty thought had him willing to do anything. "You'll wear a white shirt, tuxedo shirt... pop your buttons," he asked, squeezing his eyes shut as he imagined the dream that had stuck with him for so long. "I'll play vampire... you're human... fuck... oh God, Sam..." Gripping his lover tight he tried to roll them in the narrow space, fucking harder to the image in his head. "I can corrupt you... make you want to give your blood." Biting his lip, he forced his hand into the the small space between their bodies and the seat back, and pushed hard, finally finding himself mostly on top of Sam.

Sam pulled his head away from Dean's neck, looking up at him with a quirked brow and a smirk pulling at his lips, "You want to be my vampire and corrupt me? And me to play the poor innocent human?" he chuckled softly, smiling so his dimples showed, "Wow, you _are_ kinky, aren't you?"

"Can't beat em... join em." Feeling like something was missing, he half crawled off Sam and leaned over the front chair. A moment later, the car was on and his music was playing. "More like it, now where were we?" He looked down at his lover, then went for his pants. The sound of Sam's zipper was barely heard over the music, and then they were both stroking each others' cocks, moaning and calling out each others' names.


	27. Chapter 27

Corrupting Sam turned to be harder than even Dean thought. As much as Dean had tried to negotiate and make Sam pay Bela no more than the $2.5 mill that had been the original deal, Sam paid her twice that amount. He also hadn't been kidding about having put Dean's credit card fraud out of business and no amount of arguing with him, telling him he only did it to people who deserved to be robbed, changed Sam's mind. Then Dean found out that Sam was fixing the games of pool where he thought he was earning money. That had been one helluva fight.

And one helluva night of make-up sex.

That had Dean smiling as they walked down the dark alley and played their favorite game of getting each other horny. "I really want to try it in the sleeping compartment of a train. One of those old fashioned steam ones that rock, you know? Small beds... upper bunk. You'd have to watch your head," he put his hand behind Sam's back and leaned in to sniff his neck. "God you make me hungry." 

Sam smirked, wrapping an arm around Dean and pressing him closer, "You too.... but probably not the same, huh?" he chuckled, "not like you want to eat _me_... not like I want to eat _you_ anyway." Sam wrapped his other arm around him, sliding them down to cup Dean's ass in his hands and squeeze. "Trains are over rated. I had this idea of doing it outside," he said with a smirk, which grew when Dean seemed unimpressed, "I was thinking Alaska maybe, in the snow, one of those caves they have there...I could keep you warm," 

"In the snow." Dean shuddered. "No way, shrinkage factor. Don't ask... just watch Seinfeld, it's better than Sex in the City." Kissing him lightly, Dean pulled away and started to walk again, happy Sam was too distracted to ask where they were going. "How about... you find me spread eagled in the desert." He was sure that would get Sam going since they'd only talked about it, but never done it. 

Sam frowned at Dean's 'shrinkage factor'. What the hell was a shrinkage factor? Seinfeld. Uh-huh, some damn TV show had gotten some ridiculous idea in Dean's head. Great. Well, there went _that_ fantasy. Thank you, Seinfeld. Sam's attention snapped back at the thought of spread eagled Dean. A smirk pulled at the corner of Sam's lips as he thought about that, no longer paying attention to anything else but the 'movie' in his mind. "I could find you... like I found you that night when you were young. Only, this would be _much_ hotter, you'd be naked," he bit his lip. "Mmm... yeah... and it would need to be night, I don't want to have to wear the bracelet. I want us both completely utterly naked under the stars..."

"What about some oil... all slippery and shiny under the moonlight. And your eyes... they'd have to go dark and hungry the minute you saw me. From far." Dean's voice grew thicker. "You'd have to watch me and I'd wonder what you were thinking. Whether you were there to help or you were someone I should be afraid of." Without making anything obvious, he opened an unmarked door and walked inside a large, dark bar.

Sam listened, hanging on every word that Dean spoke, until he was reaching out and grabbing Dean by the front of his shirt and haulling him up against his body and wrapping an arm around him, locking it there like a steel band. "I wanna do _that one_!" Sam told him, eyes already beginning to darken.

"We're doin' it," Dean readily agreed, almost losing his concentration as he felt the hard planes of Sam's body leave their imprint on him. "Let me buy you a drink, and tell you more," he whispered, loosening Sam's hold and sitting down on a bar stool. Sam looked mesmerized, just like he'd known he would be. "Budweiser, and a blood brew for my pal here." His eyes dared the bar tender to challenge him for acting like the one in control rather than being submissive to his vampire owner.

The drinks were placed on the bar. "Sam can you imagine how blood dripping into sand would look?" The darkness in Sam's eyes sent a thrill straight to Dean's cock. "Drink this." Pushing the glass of scarlet liquid to Sam, he touched his bottle to the cup. "Down it."

Sam's eyes were nearly glazed over with the images floating in his mind. He was beyond not paying attention, he was no longer _there_. In his mind, he was with his human, in the desert, and it was night and they were naked and blood pooled in the nearly white sand where it escaped Sam's lips and ran downward as his human moaned and writhed under him. 

His hand moved, simply mechanical operations of the brain, done without thought, as he gripped the glass in his hand and brought it to his lips throwng the entire contents back in one gulp and swallowing. Sam's face slid slowly into a frown. _That_ was not human... from a glass... lashes fluttered as he blinked a few times and he shook his head to clear away the fog. _That_ was when Sam realized that they were in a bar. His eyes started to narrow, but he stopped himself, continued to look passive as he leaned closer to Dean. "That, or we could go to a bar sometime and I could toss you up on the bar. Bite your buttons in front of everyone and sink my fangs in... you wouldn't tell, right? Just let me do it, because you wouldn't want them to know what I was... and the entire time, I could have you angled just right that I could take your cock in my hand and get you off without them ever seeing... but I wouldn't stop drinking until you came hard for me." After Sam leaned back he quirked a brow at Dean. " _What_ are we doing in a bar?" he looked around, then back down at the glass in his hand and frowned harder, "A _vampire_ bar!?"

"What? You can be yourself here, even fuck on the bar like you said. But that's not what we're here for. Sit tight... fun's about to begin," he said slapping Sam on the back, draining his beer and walking to the couple a few seats down. When they ignored him, he cut between them and talked to the human. "You know your vampire's butt ugly. You could do a lot better." 

Sam huffed and watched Dean as he walked away. 'Oh no, he wasn't gonna.... he wouldn't....'

"M... my?" the woman looked at her vampire, then looked down.

"Human, learn your place or I'll show you," the dark eyed vampires said, shoving Dean away. 

"Nah, I'm the one doing the showing here." He grabbed the woman's hands and tugged, "sorry sweetheart, just need your seat." One second all was quiet, and the next, he'd broken the stool over the vampire's head. 

Sam sighed and hung his head. 'He did....'

All hell broke loose. Punches were thrown, and there were demands to know who he belonged to.

"I don't belong to anyone, but that vampire right there... he's mine," Dean said, pointing at Sammy. "Brawl time," he shouted, backing up toward his lover, "I got your back..." giving a rebel yell, he slammed his fist into someone, and avoided a right cross. 

Sam sat back on the stool, lifting his legs and propping them up on the stool Dean had vacated, crossing them at the ankles as he leaned back against the wall. Glancing at the bar tender he asked for another.. whatever that was and handed him his glass. 

"Don't look at me. I don't _belong_ to any human. I think he's a tad confused myself." Sam told the vampires who were looking at him to control the human he was with.

Glasses shattered. Chairs broke. Dean took a couple of punches but held his own, grinning like hell until he saw that Sam was sitting back and just watching. What the hell?!

And that was when he took one to the chin. "Fuck!" Rubbing his jaw, he went back into action. 

Sam raised his glass to Dean and took a drink, watching the fight with a smug smirk on his face. 

"Ain't you gonna help your human out before he gets killed?" the bar tender asked Sam, who was just starting to take a drink and paused. 

Sam shrugged a shoulder, "Nah, he's alright," he looked up at Dean under his brows, then golden hazels slid to the bar tender and Sam winked, "he'll heal," he told him before downing the contents of his glass.

A couple vamps and their human slaves or whatever rushed Dean. "Sam?" Turning his head and seeing his vampire was still sitting comfortably, he asked, "what the fuck you waiting-- unh." The right hook met his jaw and sent him backwards into the wall. Snarling, Dean came back for more, using every trick he knew, kicking, elbowing and hiding behind strong objects--- other vampires. That only made the number of people involved in the brawl grow.

Sam looked over at the fight, doing his damnedest to ignore each punch that he felt hit Dean. "Aw, honey, don't cheat! Get out there and fight fair. After all, _you started it_!" Sam yelled, giving Dean a pointed look that told him _why_ Sam wasn't helping, it told him this was a lesson 'for his own good,' and it told him that Sam was NOT pleased.

"Sonova..." Determined to have fun even without a partner in crime, Dean threw himself into the fight. I was tricky, and each time someone landed a hit, it hurt like hell. Thinking positively, he decided it just gave him more incentive to do better. Time stood still as he did just that. More punches and kicks. Furniture broke over backs and heads. Someone picked Dean up and sent him sliding across the bar, and tumbling to the other side. 

Sam frowned, looking down at where Dean had fallen and was about to ask him if he could _please_ stop getting his ass kicked because it _hurt_ , when Sam smelled it, along with every other vampire in the bar.

Cursing, Dean got up and pulled shards off glass out of his arm, and wiped the blood from his split lip. When he hopped back over the bar, there was a change in the air... it was thick with tension. 

Sam stood to his feet with vampire speed and was in front of Dean before his stool had the chance to fall over. Sam curled his lip, revealing his fangs as he crouched in attack position, arm out, blocking Dean from any vampire who might be stupid enough to try him. A loud low snarl broke from Sam when a vampire's boot slid just a fraction closer.   
"Stay behind me," he told Dean, though he kept his gaze focused on every vampire in the place.

"Sam--" Dean started to argue, but Sam's expression was so dark and forbidding, he shut his mouth. Shit... he was the center of attention, like every pair of eyes was looking at him. He looked down, and though he'd thought there wasn't that much blood, it had seeped through his clothes. "Let's go," he said, the fight now out of him. 

Going. Yeah, that would have been easier to do before Dean became the 'all you can eat' buffet in front of a nation of starving immigrants. No, 'let's go', wasn't as easy as it sounded,   
Sam took a step back, remaining in the same attack position and another and another, until his arm made contact with Dean's body. Grabbing his arm, Sam began to walk them side ways in that same stance, as his gaze darted to each vampire in turn. 

They were only a few steps from the door when one of the vamps moved, stepping closer and Sam snarled, eyes black as midnight, fangs enlogated, he took a step forward toward the vampire. The two stood snarling at one another, gazes locked. 

Sam hoped Dean would be smart and get the hell out of there, _now_ and not wait for him. _He_ would be fine, Dean however was a different story. And sadly, some vampires tended to like to play with their food, which would make it all that much worse if something were to happen. Sam's gaze darted to Dean and he nodded toward the door, before his head turned, his attention snapping back to the vampire in front of him.

"Sure." Sarcasm laced Dean's response to the order, as he made a grab for a beer bottle and broke it against a table. Cutting off a vamps head with just that would be... yeah, tough, but it was better than no weapon. He took a step toward Sammy, and once again, a fight erupted. Not everyone had a stake in this one, most hung back and watched, but several rushed them. He didn't know how Sam did it, but it was like he was in ten places all at once. This lower breed of vampire wasn't a match for him.

Once again, Dean was embroiled in a punchout with a vampire, but this time it wasn't just 'brawling.' He rolled onto the ground, away from it, but didn't know whether the ones standing near by would get into a frenzy as well, so he tried to keep away from them. 

Sam was moving from vampire to vampire faster than the human eye could follow him and apparently faster than these lesser vamps could either, if their sluggishness was any indication. It didn't take long and he had a path cleared between himself an the door. Looking around for Dean in that moment and not being able to find him had Sam swearing and taking a punch that he didn't deflect. Sam's head snapped to the side, long bangs flying into his face, before he snapped his head back, lip curled baring his fangs and attacking the vampire. Pulling away from what was left of the guy , he looked again for his human and found him... _Rolling on the floor?_ Sam would have rolled his eyes if he didn't want to just hurry up and get the hell outta there. Moving with vampire speed, Sam ran to Dean, grabbed him up and continued out the door, in one fluid movement without stopping. 

He had Dean thrown over his shoulder as once he had picked him up by the waist, Sam had found it the easiest way to carry him. Thankfully Dean didn't say a word about it, until they were in the woods and Sam bega to slow.

The speed with which they were moving took Dean's breath away, and he had his eyes closed so the sight of the ground passing so fast would not get him sick. "Sam, stop, I can walk... dammit. Sam," he started to struggled, distinctily adding, "we are so not having 'caveman sex.'"

Sam frowned as he moved. His free hand, the one not holding Dean over his shoulder like a steel band moved up and Sam smacked Dean hard on the ass, then did it again and again as he moved through the woods. "That was stupid and crazy and reckless and _you_ will _never_ do _that_ again!!" Each distinctly spoken word was further punctuated by a hard smack to Dean's ass. "And no we aren't having 'caveman sex', we aren't having _any_ ," again a smack hard to Dean's ass, "sex!!!"

"Ow! Fuck... Sam... sonova... Sam?! Sam!" Dean shouted, squeezing his eyes closed tighter to prevent the sting of tears. Wait till he got him back... "Goddamnit..."

Sam finally stopped walking and let Dean slid from his shoulder to stand on his feet in front of him. "If you _ever_ do that again, I'll kick your ass myself, do you understand that!?" Sam growled at him. "Never... _NEVER_ do that at a vampire bar! You may have more strength now and you may live forever," he glared, "IF you don't get yourself killed first!" he spat, "but you are NOT a vampire!" he pointed at himself, " _I_ am the only vampire in this relationship! Not you! Me! You are a HUMAN and as a _human_ you will remember that you BREAK! No, maybe you don't break as easily as the others," Sam glared, "but I could still break you if I wanted to." He pointed back the way they had come, "and so could they!" he glared at Dean for a long moment, "And if none of this is getting through that thick ass head of yours then maybe think about the vampire you claim to love, huh? Think about how I would feel if you died doing something stupid like that!" he spat. Sam's jaw clenched as he looked at Dean, before stepping around him and continuing on toward the motel.

Dean rubbed his burning ass, muttering curses at Sam. Okay, maybe it didn't hurt as much the punching, but it had been much more humiliating. He got what Sam was saying, got it was out of worry, but his delivery sucked and just pissed him the hell off. "You know what you need? One of those humans in there with dog collars on or whatever. I am _not_ one of them. I won't be treated like that," he shouted at Sam's retreating back. 

Sam waved a hand behind him and kept going. _Dog collar.... yeah he needed to put a leash on Dean alright and a muzzle on his mouth. Fucking, dog collar..._

"Whatever." Eyes bright with anger and unshed tears, Dean kicked a large tree root and turned his back to the quickly disappearing vampire. Putting both hands on the tree trunk, he leaned over and took a couple deep breaths, trying to calm himself. 

Sam stopped after a while and hung his head. He didn't feel Dean following, couldn't sense his nearess. Dean was pouting. Lovely. Sam sighed again. _Spoiled brat._ "Are you coming or do I need to come back there and get you?" Sam called back without turning.

There. That tone again. It sent Dean's blood pulsing to his temples. He cursed again, turning. "I am NOT coming. You don't get to tell me what to do, not now and not ever," he ground out. "Go back, I'll come when I want." He didn't say _if_.

Sam grit his teeth and turned on his heel, marching angrily back over to Dean and grabbing him by the front of his shirt, as he pressed Dean's back against a large tree trunk. "No. When one leaves, both leave. If you don't feel like going, _fine_! And," Sam shook his head, "you wouldn't like my idea of going back, so don't say it, not unless you're ready for whatever that might mean." Sam's eyes were narrowed, dangerous, deadly and still inky black from his anger.

"Let go, sonova..." Dean struggled, pushing Sam only slightly away. "You are NOT my mom or dad, do you HEAR me," he shouted hard enough for the deaf to hear. "I've told you that before... you do NOT get to tell me what to do, you sure as hell don't get to fucking _spank_ me, and I am NOT asking for permission to stay out." His chest heaved as his breaths left him, harsh and heavy. "I'm eighteen... almost, and no one gets to treat me like I'm four. No one, not even you, Goddamit."

"Then stop acting like a four year old spoiled brat and I won't spank you for being one. My father would have taken a switch to your ass." His eyes narrowed, "be glad it was my hand." He glanced up the way they had come once more just to be certain they weren't being followed. With Dean's temper tantrum, anyone would know where they were. His going back comment was sounding better and better all the time. Go back. Home. Forks. Where he didn't have a four year old acting Dean to take care of. Where he could be who he had been before, the shadow protector who snuck in the window at night. When there was none of this bullshit with Dean acting out and trying to.... he wasn't even sure what. _Be the vampire_? "I am a hundred years old, Dean. I never had a wife or children and I don't need a child now. Maybe Carlisle was right. I think you need to grow up," he sighed, slowly releasing Dean's shirt, his hand falling to his side.

An apology. That's what he'd been expecting, not this. In Sam's face, finger pointing right at him, he answered. "Maybe you should have thought about that _before_." Giving him another angry glare, he stalked away, heading for the motel and wallowing in humiliation and anger. 

Sam hung his head, watched Dean go, but didn't follow, not directly. Sam had other ways in which to follow, vampire ways, where Dean wouldn't even know he was there. He'd let Dean cool off, get over.... whatever the hell this was, but be close enough to... to do his duty. Even as he thought it, Sam knew it was more than a promise to Dean's dying mother that had him climbing the nearest tree all the way to the top and jumping, one by one to each, following after Dean, keeping an eye on him. He knew it was love for the damn spoiled brat human that moved him onward, but it helped his own anger to tell himself that it was a promise that did it. That he wasn't such a love sick buffoon that he couldn't let Dean out of his sight. Yeah... that definitely _wasn't_ it.

Once he broke out of the woods, Dean looked behind him and shrugged. Fine. Good. He'd wanted to get away from him for a while, and he had. Letting out a breath, he shoved his hands into his pockets and crossed the lonely highway, heading single mindedly to the motel right off it. Once at the door, he fumbled for his keys, got it open and slammed it behind him. Wallet, keys, gun... he dropped them on the table and headed for the bathroom to clean up. Tearing his shirt off, he looked down at his arm. Just like he'd thought, the injuries were superficial. His lip was slightly swollen. But that was about it, nothing he would have thought would drive a bunch of vampire's batty... in a bar where they served blood, for Chrissakes.

Okay, it had gotten dangerous, but it was Sam's fault. He'd pulled his own damned prank by refusing to fight at his side, and that's what made the whole thing blow up. Didn't see Dean wanting to go 'spank' him for it, did he? Nah, it wasn't right, and he wasn't gonna be treated like a kid... just like he'd said. Finishing up, he walked out of the room to the car. Fighting the instinct to look for Sam, he popped the trunk and got the ice chest out. Sam could go commune with the vampire spirits until he figured out that Dean needed a lover, a partner, and not a father-figure, and Dean would commune with his beer.

*

Sam ended up on the roof of the motel, crouched low and waiting. He listened to the sounds around him, could name each one. Dog, car, cricket, rustle of leaves, someones TV... turned to Ghostbusters. And then there was the sounds that came from Dean, from their room. With a sigh, Sam hung his head, decided he would spend the night, or most of it where he was, outside, like he use to, alone. Maybe once Dean was asleep, he would come in through the window... for old times sake. The corner of his lips turned up at that thought. But, he wasn't going to do anything else. Just watch him sleep from the window, like he had done thousands of times before. 

A couple of hours later, Dean clumsily undressed himself, tossing his stuff onto the floor. Sam wasn't there to nag at him, so why the hell not. Crawling into bed, he shut the t.v. off at first. But when he found himself tossing and turning... punching his pillow and trying to make it conform to his shape, hold him like Sam often did until he fell asleep, he decided it was better to at least have the t.v. on for company, something to drown out his weakness. Raising the volume, he lay back and hoped that between the lateness of the hour and all those beers, he'd fall asleep.

Sam had been sitting on the roof for what, to a human, would have seemed like an eternity. Unlike Dean, he'd found peace just laying back and looking up at the stars. Watching each one twinkle and recalling their names. However, he finally pulled up, first sitting then standing to his feet and walking to the ledge of the roof. Hopping down, he turned to the window of the room he was suppose to be sharing with Dean and unlocked it, popping it out with his TK. The TV was loud as hell in there and it was far too late for Dean to have it that way. Sam could only figure he was having a hard time getting to sleep, remembering other times when Dean had used the TV to try to add to the background noise so that he could relax and sleep. Slipping in through the window, and using his TK to close it again, not even looking at it as he did so, Sam stood in the shadows of the room, eyes fixed on Dean's form. He often wondered why it was that whenever he was away from Dean, even for an instant, he was always taken aback at his beauty when he saw him again... like now. 

Dean had his eyes closed and tried to imagine Sam right there with him, and then the slight sound of the window which would have startled him in the days 'before Sam' made his heard lurch. Slowly, afraid he'd find he'd imagined the sound too, he opened his eyes. And there he was, all six feet four inches of his gloriously confusing vampire. Not saying a thing, he held the sheets and blanket up, inviting Sam to get in.

Sam stood silently gazing at _his human_ not uttering a word. Wasn't even sure that Dean would say anything to him either, would even acknowledge his presence, but then Dean lifted the covers and Sam was walking, almost without thought, toward the bed. At the bedside, Sam toed off his shoes, then climbed in, laying down beside Dean and wrapping an arm wordlessly around him, drawing him up close. Sam turned his head, pressing his lips to Dean's head and closed his eyes, even as he used his TK to turn down the television. "Good Night." he murmured softly against Dean's head, before relaxing back against the pillow. 

"Mmm," Dean answered, the familiar embrace bringing him some peace. Yeah his mind was still working on their fight, and the night hadn't ended at all like he wanted, like it should have, but it was better with Sam here than with him gone. He just had to trust that this would work itself out.

* * *

It had been far into the night when Sam had felt the even rhythmic breathing from Dean indicating he had finally fallen asleep. Their night had certainly turned from something of promise to one of utter disaster in the span of a human heart beat. Sam sighed as he stared up at the ceiling, his thoughts cluttered, replaying their fight, thinking about things Carlisle had said, that Alice had said. Thinking about what Dean himself had said. 

The sun had begun to rise and Sam was still lost in thought, though now he was laying on his side, head propped up in his hand, elbow bent on the pillow as he looked down at Dean.

It was too early... way too early to wake up Goddamit. Dean murmured a protest as he started to wake, prolonging the moment of sleep by squeezing his eyes shut tighter. It might have worked if it wasn't for the stab of panic when he realized his head was on the pillow and not on Sam's chest. His eyes fluttered open half way, and seeing the vampire, he reached out and ran his hand up and down Sam's side, drawing him slightly closer.

Sam watched Dean's face, didn't move, didn't speak. Body held rigid, even as Dean drew him closer, his head remaining propped in his hand. Finally, Sam sighed, "Are you in pain? I could bleed for you..." he didn't _feel_ any pain from Dean, but it was all he could think to say.

"What pain?" A bit confused, Dean just pressed his body closer. "Maybe... but its just morning wood, no bleeding required." Usually, by this time, Sam's arms would have come around him, or he'd tease or... something. Dean's eyes opened the rest of the way, all signs of sleep starting to fall away.

Sam nodded, lips pressed in a thin line. "Well, I didn't think..." he sighed, tearing his gaze away. "We should get going. I miss my family."

"What?" Dean jacknifed up into a sitting position. "You want to go _home_? But we haven't even..." Then he remembered their fight. "You mean you're leaving me," he said, a tightness attacking his chest. 

Sam sat up, his eyes not meeting Dean's. "I just want to visit with Alice," he shrugged a shoulder, "wrestle with Emmett, talk to my father." He slowly turned his head and looked at Dean. "Nothing wrong with that."

He was lying, and Dean's eyes said as much. "What about our plans. What about saving people? What happened to 'we're hunters?'" he demanded. 

Sam sighed and shook his head, hanging it. "No, _you're_ a hunter." He looked up at Dean, "I'm a vampire. Different. But, I'll always be there... in the shadows, to protect you. Keep you safe. Love you." He smiled softly, sadly. "I should go home."

"In the shadows," Dean spit out bitterly. "You ARE leaving me," he nodded, "and all that other crap, about being partners, traveling, being together," he stumbled over the word, "those were just words? What you said to Bobby... lies?" Running his hand through his hair, he tossed the sheets aside and got up, rounding on Sam. "I don't believe this. I don't believe you... you're doing this."

Sam looked up at him calmly, too calmly, he'd had all night to think this through. He shook his head. "I've never lied. To you or anyone else, " he shrugged a shoulder slightly, "well, at first, but, not after." He sighed, licked his lips, "Dean, my father was right. You're a child. You have a childhood to live. I've lived countless ones." He shook his head, "I'm Dudley - do-Right vampire, remember? I'm trying to do right by you. Let you have that childhood. I can't.. I don't want another one."

"Now I'm a child. And what does that make you, _Chester the molester_ ," he practically shouted out. "You think it's that easy? You get to tell someone all those things, all those things you told me? Promises ... plans, and then you can just fucking change your mind? Go 'oops, wasn't what I wanted?' You think THIS is right? Dudley-do-Right would NOT do this. Wouldn't play with someone's life like this, make 'em believe in shit and then take it all away." His chest heaved as he fought not to allow any sign of tears, dammit.

Sam shook his head, "I'm not taking anything away. I'm giving back. Giving you what wasn't mine to take away from you. I wanted you to grow up, to be with me, be mine... forever. God, I still want that, but you're just a kid. I can't ask that of a kid. I see that now. You want to _be_ me and you can't be. You're _not_ a vampire and yet you go around acting like you think you are! What the hell am I suppose to do? Be your protecting fuck toy? Huh? Be there to get you out of stupid shit _you_ start for no reason, shit that could get you killed and then pretend like it's alright and just come back and fuck your brains out after?" he shook his head, "You know that's not me. You know I can't do that. I can't watch you play with your life like that and then make love with you like nothing's wrong, like it didn't eat me up inside to see it." he frowned, "I won't. I'm sorry." He pulled from the bed then and walked toward the door. "I already packed my things last night, after you get ready we can leave. If you don't want to take me home, it's fine. I can walk."

Every hateful word from Sam, every rejection of what and who Dean was and had always been, started a new crack in Dean's heart, until there was nothing left and it had shattered to tiny fucking bits under the vampire's foot. "Oh you can do better than that, you can walk to the car lot and pick up any fucking car you like, no problem." He stormed to the bathroom door and turned around. "I lived dangerously before you, Sam Cullen, and I will live dangerously after. You should have fucking figured out you wanted 'Maryanne' before you played with me or made me choose between you and everyone else. You think you're doing something good? You're doing this for me? You're a fucking bastard... doing worse than anything I ever did. I NEVER promised anyone anything in a relationship that I didn't deliver. How's that for grown up?" 

Sam's eyes narrowed as Dean yelled at him and in a flash of movement with vampire speed, Sam was there, slamming Dean back against the wall, pinning him with his weight, holding his wrists against the wall, his face in Dean's, fangs bared, eyes black as night. "Don't, Dean. Just fucking don't," he told him through gritted teeth, "you think this isn't killing me? You think I didn't cry half the night thinking about this? Thinking about what my father, Alice, Ros, Emmett, all of them had told me over and over again. Only I was too in love to see it. Figured we'd make it work anyway, and then last night happened, and I could have lost you to that fucking room full of vampires. One wrong move, if my attention was drawn away for a second... it was possible," he nodded, "and it would have fucking killed me!" 

Sam leaned his head in, mouth near Dean's ear, "I have always wanted you, I _will_ always want you. You are my **mate**... I told you that before, a vampire mates for life, and I meant it. I would wait until the stars fell from the sky for you," he pulled his head back, black eyes blazing, "for you to grow the fuck up! But, you have to give me a little!! You can't go around like you think your invincible." He shook his head, pressed his knee between Dean's legs, "because you're not. Not even close." His eyes narrowed, his voice dropping an octave, "like right now? I could snap your wrists with just two fingers. And this," he nudged Dean's groin with his knee, "I could shatter your pelvis to dust just by lifting my leg. You are not _me_ , Dean. I might have made you stronger, faster, live longer, made you _better_ ," he shook his head, "but you're still human. So forgive me if I get pissed the fuck off when MY human is STUPID and scares the FUCK outta me!"

Emotions raged inside Dean. "So one mistake, and you're out that fucking door. One mistake, and your precious family... everything they say about me is right, and all we've been to each other... that means nothing? Everything's off the table?" he asked, shaking a little and trying not to fight. "Well do it, snap my wrists... snap my neck, maybe then you'll be outta the misery I put you through. Do it," he shouted, now trying to shove him off. 

Sam shook his head, "No, not one little mistake. How long have I been ignoring it? How long have I put up with it?" Sam huffed, "you were good for a while, right after you almost died. Is that what I have to do? Get you at death's door and bring you back for you to listen to me? For you to _hear_ me!?" Sam grit his teeth at Dean's demands for him to hurt him as Dean tried to shove him away. Sam pulled him just slightly from the wall before slamming him back into it again. "STOP IT! I am NOT going to hurt you! FUCK!"

"You ARE hurting me. You are," he answered, almost brokenly. "This is so fucked up.... so goddamned fucked up." 

Sam hung his head, drawing in a breath before looking back up at Dean. "Then stop what you're doing, what you always do. Stop putting yourself in danger for no reason. Don't pick fights. We'll find enough of our own. Don't shoot pool in sleazy bars, I have enough money for us both, just stop doing things that make me worry about you every time I turn around. Please, Dean..." he begged, tears stinging his eyes.

Dean reeled again under Sam's demands. "You want to change me. Make me into something I'm not?! Someone I can't be?!" He thought of the Cullens, all of them so fucking perfect and sophisticated and calm. "I am NOT that guy who'll do high school ten times, I barely made it the first. I'm not the guy who'll stay in one place, or play it safe. You adopted Carlisle as your dad... but I'm not, I'm not calling you dad... I don't fucking need a father, not you, and not Carlisle... I LIKE bars... I like playing pool. I have a mission. It's in my blood... it's in my soul. You should have known... Goddamnit, you should have known before you asked this of me." He shoved Sam hard, now that his hands were freed. 

"I'm not asking you to go through high school again, ever. I'm not asking you to stay in one place, we already said we'd do this. And I never asked you to adopt my father as your own, and God, I sure as hell never asked you to call _me_ your father!" he huffed, nodding, "Fine, you like bars, we'll go to _nice_ bars, they DO have them. You want to play pool, fine, we'll find _nice_ people for you to play pool with. Hell, if I have to I'll _force_ nice people to play pool with you, I'll HIRE A WHOLE GODDAMN ARMY to play pool with you!!" he hung his head, hands clenching and unclenching into fists as he tried to control the emotions raging through him. "No," when he spoke, it was softer, nearly a whisper. Sam looked up at him, " _It's_ not in your blood. _I am._ ," he sighed, "Fine, you have a mission, I never said we couldn't do that. Just do it more... _carefully_ , please." 

Sam reached for the nearby clock and threw it hard across the room in anger, hitting the wall and smashing the clock, "GODDAMMIT, I LOVE YOU! Don't you GET THAT!?"

Dean's face snapped around toward the wall just in time to see the clock break and fall to the ground. 8:28. He didn't know why he noticed the time. It was 8:28 when he answered. "I am careful Sam. I don't want to die, or to leave you. I love you... I just can't live my life thinking everything I do will get me killed. Don't you get that?" He licked his lips, and put his hand out. 

Sam looked at him through narrowed ebony eyes, "Well, I _need_ you to start, because it can and then I'd have to watch it, feel the life go out of you." tears pricked his eyes again as he shook his head, "it was horrible enough the first time and my father saved you." he shook his head, "he's not here now, and I never want to feel that feeling again." he looked down at the hand Dean held out and hesitated, slowly looking back up into Dean's face. "Can you? Please? For me?" he took a tentative step forward, slowly starting to reach out toward Dean's hand.

Searching Sam's face, Dean was at a loss. "I don't know what you want from me Sam, what you're asking me. But I know I want this," he said thickly, swallowing salty tears as he stepped forward, taking Sam's hand, and pulling him close, then wrapping his free arm around him. "I want you you. In my life. I want what you told me, I want forever. I want there to be an 'us,'" he said, brushing his mouth over Sam's. "I fucking love you. And I need you to stop this, stop scaring me. Tell me it's gonna be okay. Tell me."

Sam reached up, cupping both sides of Dean's face in his hands before slanting his mouth over Dean's, tongue running over his lips before darting inside to kiss him slowly, tenderly, lovingly. Sam slowly pulled back, nipping at Dean's bottom lip as he did. Dark golden hazel gazed into green, "I need you to stop with the kamikaze stuff. Before you do something, stop and think how it will make me feel, if you could get killed." he shook his head, "it's not funny or fun for me. It scares the hell out of me, because I love you so damn much."

It was over, Sam was staying. That's all that mattered to Dean at the moment. "Yeah, okay," he said the words Sam wanted to hear. "No kamikaze stuff... just," he started to push Sam's shirt up his tight abs, palms stroking him, "... just sex stuff." Chuckling lightly, he melded his mouth to Sam's, shutting out any other words. This was what they were best at anyway. They'd make love, and everything would be better. This would blow the fuck over. He stroked Sam's tongue with his own. _Come on baby, let's find our way back home._

Sam swallowed back the tears that wanted to come, "Do you mean it? You're not just saying that, are you?" a small sob escaped him before he bit his lip and sniffled. He looked at Dean through tear-filled eyes, "Let me see," Sam pulled Dean closer, "let me have a taste and see."

Trusting Sam to see the truth, how much he loved him and how he couldn't believe this was happening, Dean brushed Sam's mouth, and cheek, turning his head so that his jugular was pressed against Sam' mouth. He was starting to get hard at the thought of make up sex, and he pressed his arousal against Sam's thigh making sure his lover knew. His heart was racing, his pulse jumping wildly under Sam's lips. Dean splayed his fingers across the bare part of Sam's back where he'd pushed his tee shirt up as far as it would go, and whimpered, begging Sam for more. "Need you."

Sam wrapped his arms around Dean, licking a trail across his jugular then pressing his tongue flat against the skin, feeling the blood flowing underneath. Sam moaned softly, running his hands over Dean's back as he moved his mouth, teeth grazing over sensitive flesh teasingly before he sank his fangs in. A low moan escaping him as Dean's blood flowed over his tongue. _Love you so much, don't ever want to,could never leave you. Want to..._ Sam's thoughts stopped as he was bombarded with Dean's feelings and thoughts. 

Sam sucked in a startled breath, eyes opening wide. Dean didn't understand, he had _no_ idea what Sam was saying, what he needed him to see, to understand. Sam's fingertips dug into Dean's flesh as he fought against urges, fought against the bloodlust, the lust, fought against the love that constricted his dead heart, so that he could pull back, dislodging his fangs. Sam staggered backward, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, eyes still wide. 

"You don't understand _anything_!" he gasped, ebony eyes narrowing, "You think this is about a fucking spanking!? You think I want to change you into something you aren't!? That I'm controlled by my family!? Dean, I haven't been controlled by _anyone_ in years!" Sam huffed as he ran a hand through his hair, still struck nearly dumb by the fact of how little Dean actually understood. 

There had been so many times Dean had done stupid shit since they had been together. When they were hunting, if Sam jumped from a third story window, Dean tried it. If Sam busted through a wall, Dean would try to. There were endless counts of Dean _trying_ to _be_ a vampire, to _be_ just like him and he wasn't a vampire, he couldn't _do_ those things! One day he was going to get himself killed. And if it wasn't for him, Sam was sure that Dean would not go into a vampire bar and start a fight. For some reason he had it in his head that he could do everything that Sam could, and it just wasn't so. 

Sam hung his head, "I knew it would come to this one day." he said softly, tears filling his eyes at the knowledge, before he looked up at Dean. "I have to leave you to save you," he told him softly, brokenly as tears rolled down his cheeks.

"What? No!" Dean gave a nervous laugh, his hand wiping at the wound at his throat. "You're not leaving me. You can't. You wouldn't."

Sam nodded, sniffling softly, "I can and I have to," he told him as he started to cry. Sam shook his head, "You - you think you can do what I do, I don't know why, maybe it's a kid thing, hero worship or something, but God Dean!" he choked back a sob, "you're going to get yourself killed... and I'm going to have to see it, feel it and know that I caused it. I can't _do_ that." He took at step toward the door, "You need to grow up and I have to let you."

"You're not leaving me." Dean stared intently at Sam, disbelief mixing with anger as Sam did it again, stepped all over his heart. "You are not leaving. This isn't how it ends... it's not," he practically yelled as he stepped toward him grabbing his arm, searching his face for a sign that he would relent. "Why are you crying... you don't have to cry... Goddamit, you don't have to leave." He closed his fingers tighter around Sam's bicep, shaking his head. "Don't." 

Sam leaned in pressing a kiss to the side of Dean's lips. "I love you so much. I'm going to miss you so bad," he sniffled as he pulled away, tear streaks staining his cheeks, "I'll see you again one day." he nodded, "I promise you that." With that, Sam stepped past him and walked to the door.

"Sam..." Dean raced after him, shouting from outside the door as the vampire disappeared. "Sam! Sam! SAM!" 

It was 8:28 a.m. when he first told Sam this morning that he loved him, when Sam told him he wasn't leaving if he agreed to do what Sam wanted. By 8:35, he'd lost Sam. Lost him, but he couldn't believe it.

"You'll be back, I'll be right here waiting... you'll be back," he kept saying, kept waiting.

For three booze-filled days and nights, he waited, hardly sleeping, hardly eating... just knowing beyond certainty that Sam would not do this to him. That he'd be back, and they'd go off on more adventures. That they'd be together forever... like Emmett and Ros, like Alice and Jasper, like Carlisle and Esme. He wouldn't give him up... not over nothing... he wouldn't.

And then the booze wore off and Dean took a sledgehammer to the room, breaking every last object inside. The bed they'd slept on. The credit cards Sam had insisted he take. Their duffel bags and everything inside. Every mirror, every piece of furniture, every tile in the bathroom, the porcelain sinks..... all gone, shattered to bits, just like the story of true love Sam had fed him. _Gone._


	28. Chapter 28

Sam had returned home, home to the Cullen's, in Forks. He’d nearly fallen in the front door in tears, made it to his old room and collapsed as sobs wracked him. Carlisle, Esme, Emmett, Ros, Alice, Jasper, they all tried to comfort him, but nothing helped. He stayed there on the floor of his old room, curled into a ball, in the fetal position, and cried for three days straight, until there was nothing left to cry. He had no tears left, no voice left, nothing. His dead heart was broken, shattered into a million pieces having had to leave his love behind. 

His family tried to console him with the thought that time would go by quickly and Dean would mature, grow, age and then they could be together again, but still, he just laid there, staring at the wall, unmoving. He refused to feed, to move from that spot, barely uttering a word to anyone.

* * *

[3 weeks later] 

Alice and Jasper had finally gotten Sam up and out of his room, got him into the shower and cleaned up, forced him to feed even though Sam's heart wasn't in it. Once night fell, he was left alone in his room again, it was valentines day and he could hear his brothers and sisters, hear their sounds of love from his room, as he sat with his back against the wall, tears silently falling down his cheeks. 

His head rolled against the white wall as he thought about Dean, wondered what _he_ was doing right then and yet hoping not to feel anything. Each feeling, each pain, each touch, left Sam whimpered softly knowing they weren't his own, but belonged to the one who owned his heart and always would. "Miss you." he whispered softly and licked his lips, "Dean..." he said the name just to hear it, just so he could remember what it felt like on his tongue. Glancing up at his window, Sam pulled himself to his feet and jumped... 

Landing on the ground he ran, ran to get away from his heartbreak, ran to feel something other than the pain that seemed to suffocate him, instead feeling the wind on his face, the impact of his feet against hard packed earth.   
He didn't stop until he found himself in the center of town. Valentine Festival. Golden hazel orbs darted, falling on all the couples, all of them so in love, so happy, so perfect together. A sob tore at his throat, his dead heart clenching. "Please... grow up fast." he whispered into the wind, before hanging his head, shoving his hands into the pockets of his hoodie. Sam turned and started walking back home.

* * *

At first, after Sam left him, Dean had been useless. Couldn't make a fucking decision as to where to go or what to do next. He didn't go too far from the area, just in case Sam came back ... that way he could track him. But he never came back.

Then Dean went into a reverse spin, throwing himself into hunting. When he wasn't chasing and killing, he was researching or drinking, tiring himself out so that when he closed his eyes at night, the pain of needing Sam's arms around him, of wanting to bury his face in his neck and be comforted by his sweet scent, wouldn't last too long. Course sleep never kept him safe for long, and in the morning, the absence of coffee and breakfast was like a bucket of freezing cold water to his face.

Tonight, he didn't go out even through there were werewolves to be hunted in the woods close by. Nah, he kept his clothes on and waited for Sam. It was Valentines, and Sam was just sappy like that. If he was gonna come back, tonight would be the night. Dean had this gut feeling, a good one. So he ate his dinner in the room, sat in the chair at the table, and drank his beer... imagining Sammy in the doorway, larger than life.

It never happened.

It was fucking 8:28 in the morning when Dean swept his arm across the table, clearing the beer bottles.

"He's not coming, get that through your head," he shouted, "he's not fucking coming."

He crossed the room and sat on his bed, tears streaming down his cheeks. "Fuck you Sam. Fuck you for making me cry," he said in a strangled voice. He hadn't shed this many tears since his father had died, and before that, his mom. Goddamn him... Goddamn him to hell.

Almost without thought, he unzipped his jeans and leaned back against the pillows. Three weeks, he hadn't touched himself. Had to be a record. But now, he was gonna give himself a gift... one last time with Sam. And then he was never gonna imagine him again. He'd go back to his porn, but right now.... now he needed...

Closing his eyes, he imagined the dessert. It was hot. There was hardly a breeze, and his body was covered in a sheen of sweat. His clothes were gone, and he was tied to four stakes, spreadeagled... waiting, waiting for someone to save him. 

*

Sam returned home to his room, the sounds of loving still filling the house as he slid down the wall beside the long floor to ceiling windows. Sam closed his eyes tried to think of something else, hummed softly to himself, tried to block out the sounds of the others, but it was no use. Even when he covered his ears with his hands, he could still hear them.   
Sam tilted his head back against the wall, a soft sob tearing from his throat as tears filled his eyes. "Oh God..."   
He was going insane, that was what was happening. He'd heard of it before, vampires who totally lost it and just became like wild animals, true monsters. That was his destiny, to become the very thing Dean hunted. He could only hope that when the time came it would be Dean to end his miserable existence. He cried softly, silently, eyes fixed on a point on the ceiling. "Please... make it stop. Make it stop! Hurts so bad..."

*

In a distance, Dean saw a tall imposing man. Square jaw. Slanted eyes focused intently on him. He should be afraid. He should be ashamed at being naked, but he was none of those things. He was growing aroused, just because of the heat in the man's eyes. "Untie me."

Dean Squeezed himself, gasping at the mental image of Sam walking up to him and standing over him with one foot planted on either side of his bare hips.

"No."

The word sent a thrill through him. "Please."

And again, "no." This time Sam's eyes weren't golden green anymore, they were growing darker until they were pitch black with pure lust.

Groaning, Dean started to stroke his cock to the image... the sheer desire in Sam's face as he stared.

*

Sam sat crying for a long moment until sensations not his own started to work their way to the surface of his thoughts, his feelings. He gasped softly, bowing his head, eyes on his own crotch. "You're gonna help to drive me insane, aren't you?" he spoke to Dean though he knew no one was there to hear, his voice whisper soft. 

He could feel Dean squeeze himself, felt the sensations in Dean's body as if they were his own, his cock twitched and pulsed in his jeans. Sam hissed in a breath as his hands moved to the fastenings of his pants, deft digits making quick work of the button and zipper before he leaned back, raising his hips off the floor to push his jeans down slightly, freeing himself from the confines of both the jeans and his boxers. 

His breathing quickened slightly as he wrapped his hand around his cock and started to pump himself slowly and as he worked himself, he wept. Eyes squeezed closed, he imagined it was Dean touching him, imagined Dean was there with him, that they were celebrating Valentines together, loving one another. Tears slipped slowly, silently down his cheeks as he bit his lip, holding on to the image, the fantasy.

 

*

Looking up, Dean saw the bulge in the imaginary man's pants. He saw how he clenched his hands at his sides, and the wild hunger with which he was looking at him. _Do something_

The longer the man stared, the harder Dean got, groaning when his cock started to ache. "Untie me," he demanded, instinctively knowing that if he drew attention to the bindings, it would push the man over the edge.

It did. Dean's heart lurched as the man's weight pressed down on him, the rough material of his jeans rubbing against his legs, his cock. He barely had time to take in a breath, and then the man's mouth descended over his. Hard. Demanding. Plundering... fucking his mouth... so hot, so fucking hot... Dean squirmed. He tugged on the wrist bindings, wanting, needing to touch, needing to hold him in place as they kissed. His motions seemed to excite the man. He was thrusting against him now.

"Oh God... oh God... Sammy. I'm spread-eagled for you. Look, leg's tied," he said out loud, glancing at the phone. "Just like we planned. Please."

The silence tore him up from the insides. Like sharp glass, cutting him. Dean bit his lip. Leaning his head back and closing his eyes, he started stroking himself harder, squeezing himself, running his thumb over his head as lightly as Sam's tongue used to tease him, and then he drowned the pain out with pleasure, crying out as he thought about Sam, naked, sitting on him, taking him deep inside... riding him on the dessert sand, eyes locked together... promising him _forever_.

*

Sam continued to stroke himself, lost in the fantasy that Dean was there, that Dean was the one touching him, stroking him, talking dirty to him, telling him that he loved him, needed him. His hips bucked upward as he fucked his own fist, Dean's name tumbling from his lips in a soft groan, head rolling against the wall. "Need you so bad, baby. Love you so much...." 

Sam drew in a shuddering breath, feeling Dean's hand on himself, the sensations that went through Dean went through Sam, making his cock ache, his body writhed there on the floor of his room as he slowly slid down the wall, hips thrusting into his fist faster.

*

His imaginary Sam cut him loose and they were rolling over the sand, kissing, fucking, loving each other so hard, like they were running out of time, like it was the last time... before the next time. Every muscle in his body tensed as the pressure built inside him. "Sam!" the word was wrenched from his throat as he came hard, his heart banging against his chest as he released the breath he'd been holding for too long. Slowly, his limbs relaxed, a warmth seeping through them.

"Happy Valentines." Dean took a painful breath, and then gave a bitter laugh.

*

"Dean... want... oh God, I want to taste you..." he licked his lips, head rolling on the thick carpet, fangs aching. He could almost _hear_ Dean's blood, his heart beats. He knew them like he knew the sound of his own voice now. Knew what each 'lub-dub' sounded like, the beautiful siren’s song they sang to him. 

"Forever. I love you forever, my mate, my world, my life, my heart..." Sam's neck arched back, face contorted in pleasured agony as his dead heart clenched, knowing the truth, knowing his love was no longer there. His muscles tensed, balls drawing up, even as he continued to weep silently. "Dean..." his name was a whispered tortured plea before his seed coated his hand, teeth clenched, a low groan/growl leaving him. As soon as the pleasure subsided, Sam rolled, his face against the carpet as he cried, sobbing loud, all out, tears flowing freely down his cheeks. He didn't care if they all heard him, didn't care if they all ran in to check on him. Sam didn't care about anything but the horrible ache in his dead broken heart. 

* * *

[3 months later] 

Edward and Bela had come home for a visit, he and Sam sat in the sitting room now, talking softly.   
Edward didn't have to read minds to know that his brother was a shell of the person he once had been. Where there had been smiles and laughter there were none. Where he had been full of life, a spark in his golden hazel eyes, they were now flat and dull, staring off even as Edward told him of the last hunt he had gone on with Emmett. 

It was somewhere toward the end of that story as Bela and Alice had walked back into the sitting room that Sam felt it. 

His eyes had widened as he gasped in a breath, sitting straighter in his chair, the hand on his thigh curling into a tight fist. "No... please, baby...." the words were barely audible between his clenched teeth. Sam's head snapped back as though someone had hit him a snarl tearing from his lips. 

Alice raced to his side, "Sam, what is it!? What's wrong!?" 

Sam pulled his head up, eyes black as night, "He's touching... being touched," he glanced at Bela to let Alice know he was being _polite_ for her sake, "by someone else." 

Then Sam felt Dean slide into the warmth of another body and quickly jumped to his feet, nearly knocking Alice backward in the process, an animalistic snarl tearing from his lips, hands curled into fists. "He's fucking someone else!" Sam shouted, not caring anymore that Bela was there, that she had gasped, looking up at him, eyes wide. "I'm gonna kill him. I'll rip his goddamn head off! He never loved me! He doesn't fucking love me or he wouldn't be fucking _her_ now!" 

Sam went for the door, only to have Alice and Edward on him in a flash, "Sam! No!" Edward barked out the words, clipped, commanding, much the way Carlisle would. 

It was only due to his family, to Edward and Alice, to Jasper and Carlisle as they ran into the room, that once again Dean's life was spared as he ripped Sam's already shattered dead heart into even smaller bits.

* * *

[6 months later]

Dean drove into Forks, taking the winding road like he was driving a race. For once, it didn't feel at all like he was coming 'home.' A home was a place where you had someone waiting for you, living with you. Now it was just a _place._

In town, he dragged his gaze away from the entrance to the school. Too many memories... apparently _childish_ memories wanted to flood his mind, swamp him. But he wouldn't let them. Not in the light of day, and not here. Jaw clenched, he got out and walked into the small storefront type office.

Twenty minutes later, he was back in his car and heading for his place. He refused to look where the road parted, the road he would have taken had he been going up to the Cullen house. A few minutes later, he parked in the drive. For one crazy moment, when he wondered whether Sam was inside, his heart flip flopped. But deep down, he knew it would be empty in there.

One hand shoved in his pocket, he walked up and unlocked the door. Inside, it was very still and stuffy. Like it always was when he came back from a long trip. Only there were signs of Sam everywhere. His artwork, his hightech equipment, and on the wall, in the shadowbox right next to his own parents' wedding rings was the picture of Sam's sister. He almost choked, passing it as he walked up the stairs.

 _Stop thinking. Focus._ Forcing himself to, he started to go through some of his stuff, collecting favorite weapons, though most were in the safe room. He didn't sit on the bed and he wouldn't turn on the flatscreen, even though a distraction... any sound would be better than this. Then he walked downstairs again and went to the saferoom. He packed up some of his rifles and other gear, and picked up the duffle back. 

Once he was outside, he packed the stuff away in the hidden compartment of his trunk. The sound of footsteps had him turning, thinking it was Mr. Beamish, only it wasn't. It was a dark haired pixie-like vampire who reminded him too damned much of her brother. "You come to gloat?" he asked, not bothering to cover his bitterness. "I expected Ros would take those honors."

Alice had known Dean would be at his home today, had seen it in a vision and without telling anyone what she had seen o where she was going, she had left home and walked the framiliar nearly worn path bewteen their houses through the woods, taking a turn at the end to come out near the street before walking up the side walk, golden hued orbs intent on the hunter her brother loved so much. 

She tilted her head as she neared him, as he spoke to her, his bitterness so evident that she was a bit confused by it. It wasn't like _she_ had ever intentionally done or said anything to hurt him. 

She licked her lips, her hands clasped behind her back as she stopped at the end of the car, a few steps away from where he stood. "There's nothing to gloat about," she tilted her head the opposite direction, "And Ros is busy." _watching after our heartbroken brother._ "I came to see how you were."

"Hmph." Once, he would have believed her. But they were all liars, telling him one thing to his face, telling Sam different. And Sam was no better. "You know, I liked you a lot better when you said what was really on your mind... before all..." he waved at the house, "this. You've come, you've seen, you can report back that I still live. Anything else?" 

Alice hung her head for a moment before looking back up at Dean, "I understand that you're angry, hurt, confused. But, he did what he did because he loves you. Wants you to be safe, grow up." she sighed, her arms falling free to her sides, "It'll work out, Dean. Have faith in that."

"If I had a dollar for every fucking time I heard that." He crossed his arms and leaned against the Impala. "I love you so I've got to leave you - that's just lunatic logic, don't use it on me," he said. He'd been right about them before, all of them. They made no sense. 

Alice quirked a prefect brow, "Is it, Dean? You weren't trying to do everything Sam did? You weren't starting fights in vampire bars and then nearly becoming the main course?" she tilted her head again, "my brother is a lot of things, but he's not a liar. He's horrible at it. And yes, he still loves you. He will always love you, if you doubt that then maybe you never really knew him like you think you did."

She was just getting him angrier, and Dean didn't know why he stood there listening. The ridiculous words reverberated in his head often enough without having to hear them from her too.

Her eyes narrowed as she pulled her head up. "Nice credit card bill you ran up, by the way," she shrugged a shoulder, looking away, "not that Sam cared." she looked back at him, "So when did it happen? When was the day you gave up on my brother's love? I know the day we found him on the floor of his room and I know the day that Edward, Jasper, Carlisle and I had to talk him down from a rage, but which time was it that you actually gave up on him," she shook her head, "he won't talk much to any of us."

Credit card bill... he hadn't used... ah for destroying the room. Well Sam had deserved that one, and Dean didn't feel even a little guilty. "If you're trying to make me feel sorry for him... HE walked out on ME. Alright, if he's not skiing his ass off in Veil or hobnobbing away some other place, it's HIS fault... his fucking choice." He stared at her for long moment. "My mom and dad used to fight. Sometimes things got broken," he almost smiled, remembering how guilty they looked if he came out of his room. "My dad would leave, but he ALWAYS came back. When I figured out this isn't like my dad leaving to blow off steam, I gave up. But unlike my dad, Sam will _not_ break me by leaving."

That was debateable, but he was determined not to let any of them know. Before she said anything, a polished but old car pulled up. Mr. Beamish walked out, waved and went to his trunk. A moment later, he came up to them on the lawn, holding a "For Sale" sign. "How are you, son? Now you realize it will be a while... market for houses isn't great."

"No problem, I'm not in a rush." He tossed the extra house key to the real estate agent. The safe room was locked tight and there was no way anyone was going in there, not until he cleaned it out if there was a sale and the need arose. 

Mr. Beamish went to the front of the lawn and started working.

Letting out a breath, Dean pushed away from the car. "Goodbye Alice."

Alice looked at him, pulled her head up, her shoulders back, standing as tall as every inch of her small stature allowed. "Dean, you say your parents fought and your dad would leave to blow off steam... about how long was that? A few hours? A day? More? Sam's a vampire. For him _years_ are like that. But he's not blowing off steam, he's waiting for you to grow up, waiting until _he_ won't be the cause of you getting yourself killed, but he _will_ be back." With that she turned on her heel and walked away.

"Years," Dean ground out, "he can take goddamned centuries for all I care," he shouted, slicing his arm through the air then walking to the driver's side and tugged the door open. He could just see _them_ in his mind, sitting around in their living room, analyzing everything he said, everything he did. God he hoped he didn't give her too much 'material.' Damn them... damn the Cullens. They almost... almost made him wish he'd never saved Sam.

The bitter thought was untrue, but it ran through his mind often these days anyway.

* * *

[one year later]

Sam's bouts of rage weren't getting better, they were getting worse. Each time Dean would fuck some one, each time he would kiss another's lips, Sam would go off, throwing things, punching holes in walls, uprooting trees, threatening to go kill Dean, his rage became so bad that Carlisle didn't like him being left home alone... ever. 

It was a on an Autumn morning that Sam had walked into the sitting room and told Carlisle and Esme that he was leaving. He knew that what he was becoming, the way he acted wasn't good, was only going to get himself or his family into trouble, or maybe both. He had to get out of Forks, had to get away from memories, run, run as far away as he could... and maybe, maybe he could out-run the link he had with Dean, some how. 

Sam found himself in the city, Seattle. He had a small apartment just off the main road, behind the house of a nice old couple, a place he knew he had to be quiet at, a place he would have to force himself to be in control, it was one of the reasons why he had picked it. That and the fact that the elderly couple were all alone, needed help around the place, and in exchange for some heavy lifting, they had offered to lower his rent a hundred dollars a month. The money meant nothing, but he needed to be useful and had agreed. 

He'd been in the city only a few weeks when he made a decision. Decided that he would go to Dean on his birthday. They would work it out, make it right again. It would be... perfect again and finally Sam would feel whole once more. That decision made hadn't stopped his feeling Dean touching others however, hadn't stopped the pain that sliced through his dead heart at every touch, every time. Hadn't made the loneliness any less horrible to bare. 

One night, it was maybe midnight when he found himself sitting in one of the sleazy bars downtown, drinking glass after glass of Jack Daniels. He’d found out that his vampiric system didn’t process the alcohol well and affected him strongly – doing the opposite of what he’d expected. So here he was on his third glass and rip-roaring drunk, sitting in a place where he didn’t belong but but Dean would have loved. 

Teary eyed he looked down, pouring more of the amber liquid into his glass. It was then that he felt the hand on his shoulder. 

"I can help you a lot better than that bottle can." 

Sam's head snapped up, eyes narrowing as he bared his fangs, not even caring that he was doing it in a bar that didn't cater to _his kind_. 

She stood there in tight jeans, a tiny black shirt and dark short leather jacket, her chestnut brown hair hanging loose around her shoulders, full lips curved into a small smirk. "Is that supposed to scare me?" she leaned in, her mouth near his ear, "What if I can make the pain go away? Pluck out the pain and give you your life back." 

She was a vampire, he should have known it from the moment she walked up, but the fact hadn't registered in his drunken brain until the moment her cool breath fanned his ear. She could make the ache in his chest go away? Could make life _not_ be the hell that it had been for the past year? It was like God had finally heard his prayers, his pleas, and sent _him_ an angel. Sam nodded drunkenly. 

She reached out with her free hand, taking the glass from his, and helped him to his feet, turning with him, she began walking them toward the door, her arm around his waist, his around her shoulder to steady him. "My name is Ruby, by the way."

* * *

[One and a half years later]

 

Dean was just setting fire to the bones when the sound of breaking twigs had him turning around. "Bobby. What the hell you doing here?"

"Heard you were in the area, and that you might be needing some help," the older man said, coming up to him and giving him a hug. Then his eyes darted around. "Making quite a name for yourselves. Keep hearing about John Winchester's boy this and John's boy that. Got some big kills under your belt," he said proudly, thumping Dean on the back.

Though he shrugged, Dean felt good for the first time in a long time. Bobby's approval meant a helluvalot to him. "Doing what I can. We're finished here. Want to go grab a beer?"

"Sure. What about Sam?"

"Huh?" No, his heart wasn't shattering to tiny bits because there was nothing left there to shatter. "Nah." He would have loved to leave it at that, but Bobby was waiting for an explanation. "He split."

"What? When?"

Dean made the mistake of telling the truth, then got an earful about having gone soft in the brain. Apparently Bobby didn't think too highly of him anymore, now that he knew he'd gone on those dangerous hunts alone. "Dad used to--"

"You're not your dad. And he had years of experience, boy... stop thinking with your ass, or you're going to get yourself killed."

"Yeah, well, maybe I'm harder to kill than you" _or Sam_ "give me credit for. Now how about that beer."

Grousing, Bobby started following him through the cemetery. "So... met any boys--"

"Girls," Dean corrected. "You better hide the virgins again,” he gave a forced grin.

"Really?"

"Yeah."

"So the boy thing, that was just a ... phase?"

"Yeah, just a phase. Didn't even last a year." Dean ducked into the car before Bobby could see his eyes were unnaturally bright with unshed tears. That's right, that's all you were... a fucking phase.

* * *

[NOW - 10 years after break up] 

There was to be a benefit concert held on a yacht that evening and Sam was performing. He had turned to music to fill his time and was now quite a famous pianist, though he went by his stage name now, Samuel D. Dorton. The 'D' was for Dean, since he didn't have a middle name and picked the most wonderful name he could think of, the subject of all his works. 

He stood now in front of a full length mirror in the in the yacht's largest bedroom, readjusting his bow tie for the hundredth time and frowning at it, as he fidgeted nervously. 

"Sammy, stop fidgeting." the petite curvaceous brunette told him as she hurried over to his side, her elegant black cocktail dress swishing around her ankles, the deep slit up the side, the only reason she could move that fast in the skin tight, low cut dress. "Here, lemme fix that." she told him, smiling up at him as she fixed the tie without even looking. 

"You're going to do fine. You always do." she encouraged. 

Sam sighed as he turned to look back in the mirror once more, still frowning at his reflection. "Do I look alright?" 

Her golden gaze raked over his form, from his black dress slacks that showed off his tight ass to his crisp ruffled white shirt, that hugged his muscled torso and up, to the perfect black bow tie. He looked stunning. "You have the jacket?" she asked him. 

Sam nodded, "It's on the chair." 

"You look wonderful." she answered his earlier question, "Sam," she waited until his golden hazel gaze met her golden one in the mirror, "are you sure you don't want any?" 

Sam shook his head, "I play better when I don't." 

She sighed, "You _hurt_ when you don't." 

Sam nodded as he turned around to face her, "Exactly." He agreed, reaching to pick up his suit jacket, and slipping it on, "Just be ready for me as soon as I finish."

* * *

Dressed in a suit, and tugging on his damned tie, Dean strode across the top deck of the three story large modern party yacht apparently plagued with a ghost. You wouldn't know it though, looking at all these well dressed people, men in suits, women wearing long flowing show-it-all dresses. He turned to watch a blonde go by, then forced his mind back. Besides, she probably had a rich boyfriend or husband - too young to need a boy toy - cause he'd heard tickets to this event had been upwards of a thousand bucks a pop. For that price, they'd better have a helluva buffet, he thought, passing the small one set up for the pool deck and plucking a pastry puff filled with shrimp... he hoped, that's what it was as he swallowed.

The sky was clear and filled with stars, the air cool and crisp, and everything was picture perfect, like these people's lives. He hoped it would stay that way. There had been sightings of a woman, bloodied and battered, and on two separate occasions, people had been scared enough to fall or jump into the water. One of them hadn't survived. The people who leased the fancy party boat out had asked for 'special' help, and here he was, in the flesh.

He'd researched the history of the yacht and found that about five years ago, a woman passenger had gone missing. That was it, until the recent scaring, though he'd heard from the crew that maybe other people had seen the ghost in the past too... drunk people had mumbling about a bloody woman.

Strolling to the railing, he leaned against it and looked down at the other decks. Then there was the loud sound of clapping. Guess the show started. More people filtered off the third deck to go down to the 'party floor,' which was the first deck. The soft sounds of a piano started to fill the air. Figured, some sort of piano concert. Just once, why couldn't he end up somewhere with Metallica?

Even as he prepared to hate the music, he found himself straining to listen. Something about it called to him... was familiar, but what? Losing the smug look, he looked down and listened. It wasn't a smooth melody, like what he would have expected. It had a beat to it, loud, then soft, then loud... and louder. It made him suck his breath in, like he was waiting... waiting on something, but he didn't know what.

"Amazing, isn't he?"

Dean turned. "I don't know much about..."

"Yeah, neither do I," said the crewmember. "But something about his music really gets the blood going. See anything?"

"Not a thing. I may have to try to lure it out later."

"Lure it? How?"

"Oh, I don't know. I could tell her she's an ugly bitch," he shrugged, pushing away from the railings and heading for the stairs. 

"What?"

Waving him off, Dean made his way down to the party deck, and walked inside the large room with big windows all the way around giving a beautiful view of the cityscape as they parallel the shore. Although there was some seating set up right in front of the piano, most of the room had tall tables and stools and allowed people to mingle and chat, though they did so quietly. 

He weaved his way through the crowd, his heart pumping to the sound of the music, until he found a spot from where he could see the pianist. And then his heart went out of sync to the music, tumbling in his chest... almost stopping. He gripped the edge of a table, eyes glued on Sam. It was him... he wasn't imagining it, it was Sam.

Was he playing out his dream from so long ago to torture him? That thought was pushed aside as Dean drank in the sight of his first love, looking as flawless as he ever had. So damned sophisticated in that suit, and the white ruffed shirt... damn, he wasn't gonna think the things he wanted to think, wasn't gonna imagine himself wrinkling Sam up, buttons flying as he opened up the shirt. Nah... those days were gone.

Swallowing hard, he searched Sam's face. The vampire had his eyes closed and didn't appear to be aware of him at all. Head thrown back, he started to play the piano harder, faster, licking his lips like he was about to orgasm. That's when it clicked. The music... it sounded like how Sam perceived his blood flowing through his system. For one instant, when he believed it, his heart stopped again. Then he brought himself to the ground... Sam had sucked the blood of a hundred people after him, it was their blood... or just blood and heart beats.

At the piano with his fingers on the keys, Sam lost himself to the fantasy. Lost himself to his imaginings, like he always did when he played. In his mind’s eyed, Dean was there, kissing him, touching him, looking into his eyes and telling him how much he loved him. They were in his room again, on the lounge and they couldn't get enough of one another, the sound of Dean's heart beating filling his ears, the sound of his blood singing to him ringing in his head. That was it, that was the melody Sam copied, every time he played, every function, every concert, every time that he made an album, it was to the sirens song that Dean's blood, his heart beats, sang to him in the midst of their loving. 

Sam closed his eyes, his head tilting back as a soft moan escaped him, drowned out by the sound of the piano before him. His tongue darted out to lick at suddenly dry lips as his fangs ached for the blood that was no longer there. Biting his lip, Sam continued to play, letting the wave of desire and the memory of love carry him, moving his fingers across the keys. 

Someone walked up and asked Dean if he wanted a drink. "Whiskey, straight up," he answered, unable to look away from Sam's face. Then the music exploded into a loud crescendo, and died as suddenly. You couldn’t hear a pin drop, not for a few moments, and then there was the clapping, and people standing up, blocking Dean's view.

When the music ended, Sam slumped slightly forward, he had gotten so carried away this time that he had actually smelled Dean as if he were there. Trembling hands curled into fists against the piano keys. "Ruby..." Sam called for her, his voice tortured and whisper soft, though she heard him plainly, even over the applause and was by his side in a second, pulling him to his feet. 

"Get up, Sam. They're all looking at you. Bow and we'll go, we can return after." she told him. 

"I... I smell him," he told her softly, his head bowed to hide his elongated fangs, as he allowed her to pull him to his feet. 

Golden eyes scanned the crowd, before flickering back to Sam, "No you don't Sam, it's all an illusion. Let's go." she told him before smiling to the crowd, gently pulling him off the small stage.

When Dean glimpsed Sam again, there was a woman with him, her arm possessively wrapped around his waist as she pulled him off the stage. Just his type, Dean thought. Despite Sam's protests about Bela, he'd always thought there was a little more going on there than Sam just being jealous so many years ago. His girl-vampire here was a lot like Bela. Clamping down on old and new feelings of jealousy, he breathed a sigh of relief when they walked into some alcove. Yeah, he knew what they'd be doing in there, because he knew what he'd be doing with Sam right now, right there, if they'd been together. No, he wasn't gonna care... he didn't fucking care.

Face grim, he turned around and stalked out. The cold air felt good on his face. He was burning up, and he hadn't even realized it. Fucking suit. Heading for the railing, he gripped it and looked out onto the pitch black water. That's how he felt inside... exactly how he felt. How many times had he imagined running into Sam? Countless wasted day dreams. Now all he wanted was to get the hell outta dodge and he was stuck on a goddamned yacht.

*

As soon as Ruby had Sam off the stage she backed them into a small alcove, pressing herself up against him, "Take it, Sam. Do it, no one will know, they'll just think that you're a passionate musician making out with his manager." 

Sam wrapped his arms around her, and dipped his head to her neck, quickly sinking his fangs in even as she muttered the old Latin words under her breath as he drank. 

When Sam finally pulled his had back with a gasp, Ruby's eyes were black as night as she gazed up at him, her hand reaching up to cup the nape of his neck bringing their mouths together in a heated kiss. 

It was nearly twenty minutes later when Ruby lead Sam by the hand, her fingers laced with his, out onto the top deck. 

They had kissed for a while before Sam had pulled away telling her that he needed to go to his fans, and as much as Ruby would have liked to argue with him, he was right. There were reporters there and other people of extreme importance, if Sam disappeared after his concert, it wouldn't go over very well. 

Walking him over to the railing, she smiled up at him, "Wait here, I'll go get us some champagne." 

Sam nodded, before turning, golden hazel eyes scanning the crowd. Even after feeding off Ruby with her magic blood he could still smell Dean, he knew that he could, it wasn't his imagination, it wasn't a fantasy. He was here...

After the initial shock wore off, Dean had walked each floor of the yacht, made sure there was nothing on his EMF detector, and then made his way back to the top deck, figuring there was less chance of running into _them_ up here. Besides, he thought maybe he could talk the crew member who was his contact into somehow getting him off this boat. After hearing 'no' three times, he gave up. Right... he'd just have to keep a low profile. Anyway, Sam probably wanted to keep the hell away from him as much as he did, so it would be fine. Besides, Sam was just on a break... he'd have to go back and perform soon.

Rubbing his eyes, he went to the bar that had been set up and waited for his turn. It was going to be a fucking long night. All he wanted to do was get off this boat, and get slowly drunk until the voices in his head quieted. 

Sam waited, hands braced behind him on the railing as he watched and nodded politely to people who passed him, still trying to catch sight of Dean. 

It wasn't until he turned to look over at Ruby where she stood at the bar, getting their drinks that he saw him. Sam's breath caught in his throat as he pulled away from the railing. He stood staring, motionless, not even bothering to breath as he drank in the sight of his beloved human. He hadn't changed much... filled out more maybe, more muscular, his hair another shade darker, but that was about all he could find that was different. Sam's dead heart constricted in his chest and butterflies danced in his belly. He was about to step forward, to walk up to Dean, when members of the press blocked his path. 

"Samuel D. Dorton, my my aren't you a hard one to track down," an older lady with The Post, or so her badge said, teased him as she flashed a camera in his face. 

Sam blinked, tearing his gaze from Dean to look at her, "Hm? Excuse me?" 

"We've all," she looked at the other three members of the press before returning her gaze to him, "been trying to interview you for months, but you seem to just run away." She smiled, "you can't run now," she chuckled as did the others around them. 

"Oh," Sam smiled nervously, "right." iHs gaze flickered back up to Dean. 

"Why don't you tell us about that wonderful music of yours _what_ is your inspiration?" she asked him. 

Sam tore his gaze from Dean once more to look at her. He licked his lips as he reached a hand out to cup her face, "Have you ever listened to the sound of your lover’s heart beats when you make love to them?" he asked her, "It's a sirens song all it's own." He smiled almost sadly at her, " _that_ is my inspiration." 

The woman seemed to nearly swoon as he pulled his hand away from her face. 

* 

Ruby turned from the bar, nearly knocking into a man with short cropped golden brown hair behind her. She smiled at him, not even bothering to hide her fangs, "Excuse me," she muttered, before stepping past him and walking toward Sam. 

* 

"Have you ever been in love?" the interviewer asked Sam. 

Sam smiled sadly at her, biting his bottom lip before he opened his mouth to answer, only to have Ruby step up, handing him a champagne glass and wrapping an arm around his waist, she answered for him, "He _is_ in love." She looked up into Sam's eyes, "has been for a very long time now, haven't you, Sammy?" 

The interviewer awed as she looked from Sam to the woman who had walked up. "And your name, hun.?" she asked. 

Sam cleared his throat nervously as he frowned slightly, "This is Ruby, she's my..." he looked over at her then back at the interviewer, "manager." 

"I see." the woman said with a naughty grin as she jotted down notes.

Dean had only just managed to keep from cursing at Sam's vampire bitch. Now fuming as he stood waiting to be served, he had the misfortune of being in hearing distance of the impromptu interview. Great... just fucking great. He didn't realize he was gritting his teeth until he was in danger of breaking them.

Sam took a sip of his champagne, allowing his eyes to slide over to Dean once more as he did. Pulling the glass away, he smiled down at Ruby, "You got this?" he asked her, before looking up at the press, "Please, excuse me, I just need to..." Sam stepped out of Ruby's embrace and around the others, "Excuse me." he repeated, making his way over to Dean. 

Walking up behind him, Sam spoke near Dean's ear as he passed him, "We need to talk." Sam continued past, turning as he did, to look back at Dean, golden hazel meeting green as he walked backward.

Dean hated the shiver that ran through him. He hated the way that Sam's nearness still made his gut clench so hard he could hardly breathe. Hated the fact he'd tried to catch just a whiff of the scent he hardly remembered anymore. But most of all, he hated the fact that Sam thought there was a single thing he wanted to talk to him about. 

He shook his head 'no,' eyes filled with the heat of fury built up over the years, and meeting a cool golden-green gaze that only made him angrier. What the hell did they have to talk about? He watched as Sam gracefully reached the stairs, without ever looking back, nodding at him, maybe even willing him to come.

He didn't even get his drink... dammit. Pushing away from the bar, Dean strode after Sam, hostility clear in his eyes. 

Sam lead the way down the stairs past the 'party' floor and down to the level with a scattering of private rooms. Glancing back to see Dean heading his way in the distance, Sam pulled the key to his room from his pocket and unlocked the door, pushing it open, he stepped inside, holding the door, he waited, head bowed, for Dean to reach him and enter. 

Sam looked up when Dean's form filled the doorway. "Come in," he muttered, stepping way from the door and going to the wet bar. "Drink?" Sam asked him as he placed his champagne glass down, prepared to get Dean what he asked for.

Tongue pressing against his cheek, Dean walked inside, taking in the luxury of the large suite. Sam had always been out of his league, it shouldn't surprise him at all. He didn't even know what the fuck he was doing here. Eyes locked with Sam, he asked. "What do you want?"


	29. Chapter 29

Sam stood a moment, hands braced against the wet bar as he looked at Dean, "I've missed you," he told him softly, before licking his lips and tearing his gaze from Dean's. Looking down, Sam grabbed up the champagne glass, bringing it to his lips he drained it, head tilting back as he finished every last drop and set it on the bar top. "I wanted to see how you were, if you were happy." Sam tilted his head to the side, a sad smile pulled at his lips, "Did you hear me play tonight? It's you, you know? All of it, always, you."

"You'll have to forgive me if I don't believe anything you say. And yeah, I heard you." Sonovabitch... sonovabitch, he never thought it would be this hard to talk. This hard to forget all the things they'd been to each other. This hard to hate someone.

He took the couple of steps to the wet bar and stood across from Sam. "I'll take a hard screw, straight up."

Sam let out a breath, looking down to start making Dean his drink. As his hands moved, he shook his head, "I've never lied to you, Dean," he finished with the drink and reached out, handing it to Dean, waiting for him to take it, "not ever."

Their fingers brushed, and Dean pulled his glass away like he'd been burned. "Yeah, you know liars don't think they are, and thieves never think they're bad guys, no one ever sees the truth about themselves. Cheers," he drank down half the liquid in the glass, and made a face as it burned on the way down. 

Sam quirked a brow. "And _what_ did I lie to you about? Loving you?" his lips curled into a soft sad smile. "I've never stopped. My life," he shook his head, hands braced on the bar top as he leaned against it. "It's been a nightmare without you. I've never stopped thinking about you."

Dean snorted and looked away.

 

"How else would all my music be about you, about the the way your heartbeats, the way your blood rushing through your veins sounded when we made love? I've always said that it was about the love of my life, and I meant it." He smirked, shaking his head, "I'm not a good liar."

"You said a lot of things Sam, a lot. None of it came true. All your bullshit about forever... you know I bought it - once," he laughed at himself. "Guess I was easier pickings than I thought." He felt the weight of Sam's stare, but the usual intensity was missing. It was probably reserved for his bitch now.

"As for your _nightmare_?" he walked across the room to the sofa, where a black scrap of material peeped out from behind it. He reached out and pulled it up out, holding the lacy black brazier to the light. "Yeah, real nightmare Sam."

Dropping it, he finished his drink and set the glass down in front of Sam. "Been nice catching up, we should do this every decade or so," he ground out, not meaning a single word. He did memorize Sam's face though, one last time before heading for the door.

With vampire speed Sam moved from behind the bar, reaching out to grasp Dean's wrist in a vise-like grip, his free hand hitting the door, palm flat, keeping it closed. "I still want that!" Sam told him quickly, "I've always wanted it," he voice softer, he licked his lips, taking a step closer to Dean, "forever." He nodded, "still want that with you, only you."

"Fuck you, Sam," he tried to push him away, his heart knocking against his chest as old feelings flooded his system. "This talk of yours, it's like nine and a half years too late. And I'm not the idiot kid who buys into your vampire love tales anymore. Not anymore," he dragged his gaze away, fighting not to feel the heat, fighting... remembering the heartache. 

 

Sam licked his lips as his gaze roamed over Dean's profile. "I've _never_ stopped loving you. _You're_ the one who ended it. I might have left while you grew up," Sam shook his head, "but as far as I was concerned it was never _over_. I never wanted it to end, but when you slept with someone else and I had to feel it," he huffed, "thank you, by the way, for that," he told him with hostile sarcasm, nodding, "you destroyed me. And as far as I knew, ended it."

A bitter laugh broke from Dean, who managed to pull his wrist back and rubbed it. "You walked out on me. Left me in some motel room in the middle of the fucking future we'd planned. You left me, Sam, and I don't care... I don't Goddamned care how much you loved me from the privacy of whatever hole you crawled into, you LEFT. That's your version of love? That's your version of forever... of mate? You fucking pointed to Alice and Jasper and Carlisle - that's what you promised me. My God, how many times did I tell you I wasn't cut out for that? All your lectures... all the crap you fed me, until I believed. I BELIEVED you Sam, then you took it all away. And you expect me to feel sorry for you? YOU made the choice. YOU abandoned me... never looked back, Goddamit. It was your choice, yours alone... I didn't even get a fucking say in it, so don't go expecting sympathy," he shouted. Shoving Sam's hand off the door, he reached for the handle. "Nothing says OVER like walking away from someone. And if you can't see that, then you're STILL living on another planet."

 

"Wait!" Sam grabbed the back of Dean's jacket and drew him back again. "I left while you grew up. You did have a say. I begged you to stop, to not do the things that you were, that could get you killed, but you wouldn't listen. I did what I had to do to save you. My version of love lasts for eternity," he nodded, "that's the love I have for you, the love I've always had for you, the love I promised you, and I have _never_ gone back on that promise. I would have found you sooner, wanted to find you sooner, but you were already living a life without me, like I had never even existed. What was I suppose to think Dean? All I could believe was that you never did really love me, that maybe you had even been too young for that. I die daily without you, but no, I don't expect your sympathy, I don't expect _anything_ from you. I just," he sighed. "I just had to let you know. Let you know that I _do_ still and always will love you." He released Dean's jacket, his voice still as dull and lifeless, calm and cool as it had been since they had begun talking.

 

He walked over to the couch and turned, sitting down, head hanging, "If you see my -- if you see Ruby, could you send her in here? I need her," he asked softly.

Everything Sam said was so fucking illogical. He loved him, but had to leave him. He wanted to get back together, but then he found Dean had a life... what the fuck did he expect or want? For Dean to curl up into a ball and wait? And then he made his request and Dean's blood shot straight to his temple. 

Before he knew it, Dean was in front of the couch, dragging Sam up with one hand, his other fist balling up tight. instinctively and before he knew it, he threw a right cross that might have broken Sam's jaw if he hadn't been a vampire. "That's for what you did to me back then." Pulling his arm back, he struck him again, hard enough to sprain his fucking knuckles. "And that's for what you're trying to do to me now," he said, shaking with fury. "You get your own bitch... I'm not your pimp. You still haven't fucking learned how to treat someone in a relationship or an ex... guess you'll never learn."

Shoving him back, he shook his hand out and walked away.

 

Sam watched the door slam closed as he staggered back, dropping again onto the couch. He hadn't stopped Dean's punches, hadn't blocked or hit back, only allowed Dean to hit him, would have allowed him to do whatever he wanted, Sam was too numb to worrying about much of anything anymore. When you had eternity to miss the only one you would ever love, what was there to live for? To care about? Nothing.

 

Slowly he pulled to his feet, moving cross the room to the door and out. He needed to find Ruby, he was due on stage in five more minutes, and the pain that gripped his dead heart, that tore at his very being with Dean having been so close to him was enough to drive Sam insane. 

He tried searching for her on his way back to the 'party' area, but Sam was out of time, they were motioning for him back onto the stage to play. Dammit.

 

Taking his seat before the piano, Sam bit his lip as he looked down at the keys. Taking a deep breath, he began to play. The music was louder than the last time, more urgent, heartbreaking as much as it was exhilarating and beautiful, the thrumming pounding rhythm had those listening sitting and standing in silent awe and, as Sam played, tears fell silently from his closed eyes.

 

*

There was nowhere on the yacht that Dean could get away from it, from Sam's haunting music. Goddamn him. Even in the bowels of the ship, they had the music piped in, so he could see it in his head. Watch as Sam closed his eyes and played. He hated the fates. Hated them with a passion. They liked playing tricks on him. It was a game to them. Oh yeah, let's go torture Dean Winchester a little more.

Putting a hand on his forehead, he covered his eyes and tried to get a hold of himself. He just had to get through the night and then he'd find a way off this yacht and never see Sam and his brunette bombshell again. He could put them out of his mind forever. Yeah, how long had it taken him the first time around? Hell, he was screwed ten ways from Sunday.

"It hurts, doesn't it?" A soft voice spoke.

Dean turned, and stepped back, it was the bloodied ghost. "What, your injuries?" 

"No, the music."

He nodded, leaning against the wall and not bothering to lure her close to where he'd left a rocksalt filled rifle, or to get her story. "Hurts like a motherfucker."

She leaned against the wall across from him, her tears coursing down her cheeks just like his.

*

Sam played, his fingers moving at almost vampire speed as he thought of how meeting Dean _could_ have gone, should have gone, if he hadn't _forgotten_ , if Dean hadn't pushed away the feelings, if he had really felt them to begin with, they'd be in each others arms now and this song wouldn't be played by a piano, but by Dean's heart, his blood. How long had it been since Sam had heard the tune? The melody? Yet he remembered every note. Knew it like he knew the sound of his own name.

 

The song rose in a crescendo then ended, it was sudden and absolute, the room in a dead silence, before Sam let his head fall down onto the keys. He banged his head against them over and over trying to force out the vision of hatred that had been on Dean's face when he looked at him, trying to remember the look of love in his eyes. Trying and suddenly failing.

 

"Ruby... please..." Sam called softly to her between bashing his head against the keys. Only she could help him, only she could take away the pain, just like she always did, like she had for years.

*

'Ruby please...' Repeated over the speakers.

 

Dean straightened abruptly. Yeah Sam, definitely don't know how to play nice with his exes. Did he want to tear him apart? Why? Taking a couple of deep breaths, he forced his mind away from Sam. He had work to do. He'd do it, and get it over with, and never have to hurt like this again. 

"What's your name? What happened to you? How'd you get hurt?" He woodenly asked all the right questions, learning that the ghost girl's engagement party had been on this yacht. That she'd spilled something on herself and gone to change, and then she'd caught her fiance with another woman. She'd backed away, and fallen over the railing. He'd never known... no one had known. The yacht's motor had cut her up as her lover was in his first throes of orgasm.

"I know how you feel. I'll make it better for you," he promised, asking her where everything happened and where her room had been. Sonovabitch... Sam's room. She must have left something behind, something that needed to be burned. It wasn't always body parts, he'd come to learn, sometimes it was something that meant a lot to the person who'd died. Dammit... he'd just better get the search done now, before Sam got back. He probably had a lot more music to play before the night was out.

*

Sam stood on the deck now, holding onto the railing, wind blowing through his hair. He felt better now, just like he knew he would. Ruby had come to him, taken him away from prying eyes and allowed him to drink from her as she spoke the incantation, uttering the spell that would make her blood numb his pain.

She walked away from him now, leaving him alone at the railing as he had asked her to. He didn't want any one there with him, just wanted to be alone, alone and blissfully, blessedly numb for a while. The lone tear that rolled slowly down his cheek, well, that had to have just been from the wind. Or so he told himself.

*

Dean easily broke into Sam's room. He didn't even need his tools, he had the master key this time for every room on the yacht since they wanted him to be able to get around. This would have been such a "sweet" hunt, if it hasn't been for...

Inside the room, he smelled the liquor from the glasses they'd both left. Trying not to remember the overpowering emotions that coursed through him when Sam was right there, he headed to the bathroom and searched every nook and cranny. Her ring... it was the first thing he'd noticed. She was engaged, but it wasn't on her finger. He was convinced that's what she had lost. And he didn't think anyone and gotten it and taken if off the ship, because she was still tied to it.

He went through every nook and cranny in the bathroom, the empty medicine chest, the areas behind the toilet,and he checked the bottom of the bathtub and shower to see if it might have gone down the drain, but the covers were solidly in place. Cursing, he went into the bedroom, checking the open areas first, then starting on the closet.

There were only a few things there, a dress and some jeans... women's, and then a couple of things of Sam's. Dean touched the silky soft material of the shirt, and gave a snort. Yeah, there had always been a big wide gap between them, but the years had made it wider. Leaning in, he breathed in Sam's scent, scrunching the material closer. Just like that, the forgotten scent of chocolate chips hit him in the gut. 

_Step away, step away, step away_. He staggered back and took a deep cleansing breath.

*

Ruby walked out onto the deck a half hour after she had left Sam there. Walking up beside him, she leaned an arm on the railing, looking up at him. "You alright?"

 

Sam glanced over at her and gave a curt nod, "Fine."

Ruby eyed him. "Liar. He's here and it's killing you."

Sam turned, first his head toward her, then his body, leaning his side against the railing, "I thought you said he wasn't here? Said it was my imagination?"

Ruby snorted, looking away. "Yeah well," she looked back at him, "I lied."she stated flatly. "Sam, I knew the minute he walked into the room. Probably knew before you did. As often as you've spoken about him in all the years that we've been together, your music," she huffed, rolled her eyes, "I think I know his scent and the beat of his heart as well as you do."

 

Sam's jaw clenched as he looked at her before he tore his gaze away, looking back out at the water. 

She pulled away from the railing, stepping closer to run a hand up his back. "So, the question is, what are _you_ going to do about it?"

Sam shook his head. "Nothing," he said through gritted teeth, eyes still on the rippling water, "he doesn't want there to be an 'us' anymore, he's made that clear."

"So, does that mean you'll think about my offer? You and me?" Ruby asked him softly, leaning in, her cold breath ghosting over his ear.

Sam turned, taking a small step back from her as he did. "Ruby, you know it's not like that with us, we only," he huffed turning back to the water, "a handful of times and that was because... well, I just needed to _feel_ something other than the pain," he told her softly.

She nodded, "Uh-huh, and the tight body was just a bonus, huh?"

Sam looked over at her, eyes narrowed, "Just stop it, Ruby. You know I'll never love anyone but him, so why do you even bother?"

Ruby shrugged a shoulder as she turned, leaning back on the railing, "You interest me. I like tall men."

Sam shook his head, looking back out at the water. 

She pulled away from the railing then, "I'm going to our room," she paused and looked back over her shoulder at him, "you comin'?"

Sam sighed, hanging his head, before pushing away from the railing, "Yeah..."

He let Ruby wrap her arm around his waist as they walked, it was a familiar feeling, the small weight of her delicate arm draped around him and he welcomed something that would take his mind off of his love. 

Stepping off the last step, he looked down at her, at the petite vampire-witch with her tight velvety black dress, plunging neckline, high slit, lose dark hair spilling over her shoulders, full soft lips. She was pretty. Someone would be lucky to have her, that someone however wasn't him. Sam always felt the pangs of guilt when he looked at her, really looked at her, because for him, she was just a friend. Someone that knew a way, and had the means to end his pain, at least for a little while.

He waited while she opened the door to their room and stepped inside, shrugging off his jacket as he entered. "Sick of wearing this 'monkey suit'," he grumbled.

"That's 'him' talking, Sammy. Not you," Ruby corrected him, giving him a pointed look as she kicked off her high heels.

Shit... on all fours, searching behind the nightstand, Dean looked up and stared at them with eyes hot as molten lava. He knew instantly that _she_ was talking about him, nevermind that she'd called Sam... Sammy. "You don't even know me, sweetheart, so don't talk shit about me." When the vampiress turned to look at him, he didn't flinch. Sam's gaze, that was a whole other matter. It burned like a knife cutting through butter.

 

Sam's head turned toward the sound of Dean's voice, eyes wide. He stood, staring, lips parted. How? Why? It didn't matter. He was there. Dean was there. His breaths were coming a bit faster, as he stared at him, eyes darkening to a deep golden hazel that would have been black had he not been under the influence of Ruby's blood.

Ruby's head jerked toward the sound of the voice. "Dean Winchester," she said his name as she took a step closer, arms crossing over her chest, "can't say I've had the pleasure." Her eyes narrowed, "is this a new way to meet women? On all fours, on the floor?" she shook her head, "I can't say that it's very becoming. Or is this something special just for us?"

"Trust me, I don't do vampires or brunettes _anymore_ ," he shot back. He sought out Sam's eyes, but just for a second, long enough to see the lack of reaction in his ex. Shrugging it off, he crouched lower, hand searching and coming up empty.

Sam didn't take his eyes off Dean, not for an instant, his gaze as intense as it was able to be with his feelings, his emotions, numbed by Ruby's blood.

"You pompous ass!" Ruby spat, eyes narrowed, "Well, guess that just leaves more for me," her lips pulled up into an evil hate-filled smirk.

"I guess it does. Then one day he'll give you a bullshit line. You're too old, too young, too pretty and it's hasta la vista, baby. Oh, and he'll be doing it _for you_ ," Dean added the jibe. He didn't give a shit what Ruby thought, he was speaking to Sam.

He stood up, and brushed his hands together to get rid of the dust, then went around to the other side of _their_ bed. He wasn't gonna wonder if Sam held her all night long. Vampires didn't sleep, he wouldn't have to. Or maybe they did 'other stuff' all night. Right, he gritted his teeth against the images that threaten to push him over the edge.

Lowering down, he looked under the bed, not expecting to find anything there, then searched behind the night stand again. "Maybe you folks could just come back in ten," he said in his falsest most pleasant voice.

Ruby glared at him, her arms falling to her sides as she strode angrily into the bedroom, the heartbreak coming off of Sam was easily felt, even if you were human. The fucking asshole was just being cruel and he knew it. She marched around the side of the bed toward where Dean was, ignoring Sam's "Ruby, no!" and grabbed Dean by the hair, pulling him up, teeth clenched, before she threw a punch, hitting him across the jaw. "That's for being an insensitive jerk!" she spat, before turning and kicking out, her foot lodging in the center of Dean's chest, knocking him backward onto the bed.

Ruby was on him in a heartbeat, fangs bared. 

Sam moved quickly into the room, rushing up behind Ruby to stop the punch only to have the force of her drawn back arm cause him to stagger backward. Regaining his footing, Sam went to stop her from hitting Dean again, as he grabbed her wrists. He swore softly as she spun and kicked Dean instead, shoving Sam away from her afterward and pouncing on Dean.

Dean rolled away before her barefoot connected a second time, this time sweeping his own foot around to hit her at thigh level. Sure it hurt him more than it hurt her, but it gave him a certain satisfaction, and that counted. 

Sam moved quickly, wrapping his arms around Ruby, pulling her off Dean. "No, Ruby! No! Please...." he pulled her off Dean and away from the bed.

After a moment, she stopped struggling to get to Dean, though her eyes shot daggers at him.

 

Sam closed his eyes, sighing softly, "Ruby... please... just go. I'll be there soon," he opened his eyes and slowly released her.

Ruby jerked herself away from Sam, hate-filled eyes intent on Dean. "Sleep with the window closed tonight, shortbus," she snapped at him.

Dean laughed as he stood up. "Oh I'll leave it wide open for you, babe. Wide open. You know what your problem is, both of you?" he swept his gaze over Sam too. Sam who'd thought he was so weak, like glass, that he'd shatter. Sam who'd left him and shattered part of him just by leaving. "You're arrogant. You think nothing can touch you. Guess what, sweetheart? I've put two of you... your kind... under the ground, and I have no problem doing it again. Bring it on." 

Dean wasn't lying. The first time, he'd had help. The second, he'd been alone. Once he knew about that bluish metal... it had been a matter of having the right sorts of traps and weapons made, and then using the arrogant sons of bitches' characters against them. Most of them weren't like the Cullens, and he had no idea what Ruby's diet was, but if she came at him, all bets were off the table.

Ruby paused and glared at Dean. "Remember how you said I knew nothing about you? Right back at ya, bitch," she snapped, tossing Sam an angry look before storming from the room and out the suite door, slamming it so hard behind her that one of the pictures in the bedroom fell from the wall.

Sam let out the breath he'd been holding as he watched Ruby go, returning his attention to Dean. He eyed him a moment. "You did? You killed vampires like me? 'Vegetarians'?"

"How many vegetarians have you met?" he asked hotly. As if he'd suddenly changed and turned against everyone. "Know what? You should go after your _girlfriend_ , but I'm telling you, she gets in my face... I don't care who she is..." 

Stalking to the head of the bed, he started to lift the mattress. Cursing at its weight and dragging it to one side so he could check the bed rails and area between the headboard and mattress. 

Sam frowned at him, brow creasing. "She's not my girlfriend, Dean. She's my friend, my..." he licked his lips, "she takes care of me." He shook his head, "but she's not my girlfriend." Hequirked a brow, "What are you looking for?"

"'Please Ruby, please...'" Dean mocked, "right, she's you're... what now?" Snorting, he ignored the question and moved around to the other side. "Dammit." He just needed to be done, and get out. "Move," he said, not liking Sam hulking right behind him. He was too aware of the damned vampire, and that wasn't good.

Sam frowned, "When did you hear me...? Oh. The concert," he licked his lips, "then you also saw that I was crying. I needed her to..." he paused weighing his words, "get me out of there, take care of me. Help me feel better." He shrugged a shoulder, "it was nothing more than that."

"Oh I'll bet she does that--" He pushed the mattress back, then walked to the foot of the bed, to do the same.

 

He sighed as he watched Dean, "You know, if you tell me what you're looking for maybe I could tell you if it's here. Ruby was teaching me this fight move, so I kinda know what's on the floor," he looked slightly embarrassed, cheeks turning a shade pink, "she tends to kick my ass."

"You know if I wanted to know about your sex life, I'd have asked." Slamming the mattress into place, he ran a hand through his hair, and looked around. Double doors to the balcony. He walked to it and opened the doors, immediately letting in the cool wind. 

The minute the balcony doors opened, Dean's scent was blown back at Sam with force. His eyes immediately darkened to inky black, his fangs aching, blood pounding in his temples. _Oh God..._ It didn't make sense, Ruby's blood normally kept Sam good for days, weeks even, but in Dean's presence, it seemed he was needing it all the time, more and more of it. And now, it was as though Sam had never had any tonight, his feelings and emotions hit him full force with the first breath of wind through the balcony doors.

 

A snarl broke from Sam's throat a second before he moved with vampire speed, grabbing Dean and moving him backward until he had him bent back over the table that sat on the balcony. Sam's body pressed against Dean's. Sam pinned Dean's wrists down to the table, his face inches from Dean's as he bared his fangs, a low growl leaving him as ebony eyes slowly slid closed, his hips grinding against Dean's. Sam dipped his head, mouth near Dean's ear, his breath ghosting over the sensitive flesh. "Missed you so much," he told him softly.

Just like old times. Times Dean had fought so hard to put behind him. Sensations that had once ruled his waking moments, and even his sleep in his dreams. His heart knocked against his chest, his pulse racing. He tried not to breath, not to remember so much, not to look into eyes that never failed to affect him. But the words were too much, they broke the spell.

"It was your choice, baby. And now I don't feel the same. I don't want you." Every muscle in his body was wound so tight it almost hurt. "Get off me, Sam. I'm not a substitute for your bitch. I - don't- want - you." He grit out, even when every cell in his body called him a liar, and it took all of the control he'd developed over the years, to prevent himself from arching up, just to touch his body to Sam's one more time.

Sam's eyes slowly opened, drew back, ebony eyes slowly fading into dark golden hazel as he looked at Dean's face, memorized it. "Then I guess this really is goodbye," Sam told him softly, releasing one of Dean's wrists to run his fingertips down the side of Dean's face. "I'll always think of you, always love you." And just like that, Sam was gone. Not a trace he had ever been there. Nothing.

 

Sam stood at the end of the yacht, back where no one else normally came, he stood at the railing, hands braced against it's cool wood, head hanging as he wept silently. He knew Dean was lying, had heard the pounding of his heart, had felt the reactions of his body, but if Dean didn't want him body and soul, Sam wasn't gong to force it. He wasn't the person he use to be. He wanted Dean to want him back, not tell him no. The body was a fickle thing. He wanted more than Dean's body. He wanted his heart back.

* * *

 

Dean had walked the yacht so many times he knew every part of it. He hadn't found a thing, and the ghost hadn't shown again, no matter how much he'd tried to get her to appear. Eventually, when it was only a few more hours until morning, he went to the lower decks to a small room meant for staff. At least he wasn't forced to share it, which was good since he had his weapons and shit to worry about. 

As he undressed, he looked out the small round window, his mind turning to where Sam was right now. They'd announced he was ill and someone else had played music the rest of the night. He'd just bet Sam and Ruby were getting down and dirty just about now. He grit his teeth at that, and rejected the childish need to get revenge. It would be easy... so easy to find a warm willing woman. But no, he was better than that. Better than Sam.

He still couldn't believe the trick Sam played. _I need you, Ruby._ Over and over, he remember the desperate words that came over the speakers. And right after that he claimed to miss him, to love him. "Bullshit," he snarled, and got into bed. Sitting against the pillows, even an hour of satellite t.v. didn't help him get to sleep. Fuck. Then sleep finally claimed him, but he was tortured by dreams, bits and pieces of the past and present, haunting him. Torturing him.

Sam made his way into the room Dean was in, could following his scent, he knew exactly when he had found the right room. Using his TK, which lately was a hit and miss thing, he unlocked the door to Dean's room and crept inside, closing the door softly behind him and locking it once more. He stood in the shadows of the room across for Dean's bed, watching him. The room Dean was in was small, so small there was barely room for anything else but the bed and small dresser. 

Sam's TK had been getting less and less reliable the more he drank Ruby's blood. She had assured him it was due to the blocking of his emotions and nothing to worry about however, but in times like this, not that there had ever been any until now, it made things difficult, though at least he had managed to open the door, and now to reduce the volume of the blaring t.v..

 

Sam's gaze raked over Dean as he lay in the small single bed asleep, clad only in his boxers, his body tossed, the sheets tangled about his frame, but now Sam could see more than before the changes in his love. The way he had bulked up in muscle, his biceps, the toned perfection of his stomach, same and yet different, more 'mature' somehow. His skin held a sunkissed golden glow in high contrast to the stark white sheets. 

 

Sam glanced down at his own too pale frame, unlike Dean he seemed to have gotten more pale, his hair had grown longer, and he now wore it smoothed back more, where Dean's hair seemed shorter maybe.

 

He watched as Dean's lashes fluttered then slowly opened to reveal golden flecked green orbs. Sam could make that out clearly, even in the darkness of the room, not that he needed to look, they were ingrained into his mind, his memory. "Nights are long when you are without the one you love, aren't they?" Sam asked him softly.

Dean sucked his breath in, tensing, then forcing his muscles to relax. He'd had this dream before, and why not again tonight. Made sense. And it made sense that it felt real, like Sam was really here. He didn't answer at first, just watched through sleepy eyes. Watched and remembered when it had been just like this, Sam watching or holding him as he slept. God, just when he thought the hole that had been left where his heart used to be couldn't get any bigger.

He licked his lips. "What you did to me. It was wrong," he said, looking intently at Sam. Willing him not to lie to both of them again.

Sam hung his head and slowly let out a sigh, glancing toward the door, before looking back at Dean and nodding. "I did the wrong thing, for the right reasons." He glanced toward the door again. 

"You can't even admit it." He wasn't accepting that half-assed admission. "You can't even apologize. You won't give me that much," Dean said, his voice breaking. He felt the sting of tears, and looked away...

Sam nodded, "I was wrong. I'm sorry. I never wanted to lose you." He hung his head.

Dean nodded. "It was a helluva way to cut me loose, Sam. Helluva way. I didn't have anyone. You had your family. I didn't have anyone." He closed his eyes tight, trying not to relive the hell of those first months, years. "Tell Alice she was wrong, about everything she said to me."

Sam frowned, "Alice? When did you talk to my sister?" he shook his head, "I don't... I don't talk to my family very much anymore. You'll have to tell her yourself when you see her. And I _never_ was trying to leave you, not for good, not forever. I only wanted to love you forever," he hung his head again, "and then I got scared that you were going to get yourself killed and I left.... I won't repeat why, I've told you enough." He crossed his arms over his chest, glancing at the door again before looking back at Dean, "Are you... happy? Now, at least?"

He was so tired of hearing that tired excuse that if Sam hadn't shut up about it, he would have shut him up. His question took him by surprise. "I'm ecstatic, just a big ball of happiness, can't you feel it?" he demanded, noticing the number of times Sam looked at the door. "Bitch pulling on your leash?" He snorted at the thought of a big bad vampire brought to heel. 

Sam took Dean's angry words, allowing him at least that. He hung his head as he answered Dean's question, "I haven't _felt_ you in nine years." he slowly raised his head, "not since I left home, not here, now." 

"Huh. Guess it wore off. Convenient." He didn't know how to feel about that. Sam feeling him had saved him once. More than once. And he'd wondered throughout the years. 

 

Sam huffed softly, "Yeah, it would have been convenient," he said under his breath.

 

"Sometimes... sometimes I wondered why you didn't come save me," Dean admitted. "I was stuck in an animal trap once, it hurt like a sonovabitch. When you didn't come.... I just knew it was ov..." unable to finish, he just shook his head as if to fill in the blanks. 

 

"I would have been there had I known, Dean." Sam told him, his eyes intent on Dean's face, "You have to know that if nothing else." He shook his head, "I never would have let...." he let his sentence trail off. He never would have let a lot of things happen if he had been thinking clearly, if he had known for one second how things would go. For one, he never would have left, even if it had been for the right reason. If he had to, he would have hog tied Dean and forced him to listen, should have. He knew that now. He never would have **not** been there for Dean when he needed him... and most importantly, he would not have drank magical vampire blood that allowed him to forget... to be numb. 

 

Sam took a breath, and bit his lip. "You should sleep. I'll - I'll watch over you until morning comes."

It was so damned tempting. If he put his head down with Sam there, he just knew sleep would come quickly and he'd get rest. "No. I can't go back there again Sam. You know how I said I didn't wanna be like my dad?" He gave a bitter smile. "I'm John Winchester's son alright. But I can't do this again. So you go back to that girlfriend of yours before she starts thinking you've taken a substitute."

Sam shook his head sadly. "She's the substitute. I'm only with her for the blood she gives me, Dean. Not for love, not for sex, not for anything else," he told him softly, giving a soft huff as he turned toward the door. "Good Night, Dean. I hope you sleep well," Sam told him as he pulled open the door and slipped out.

"Blood?" Dean let his head drop down. She was a substitute for his blood? She tasted like him? Oh God, please no. Rolling over onto his stomach, he punched his pillow. She'd fuckin' better not taste like him. Did Sam mean her blood called to him, like his own used to? Thinking of it in the past tense made his gut clench. "It's just reality boy, man up," he told himself, it was just one more hell to live through, that was all. 

Not sex. Right. She was all over Sam for the _not sex_. And Dean knew how sexual Sam got when he fed... well from him. He'd said no about that other guy. Nah, they were sexing it up. Had to be, she'd been such a bitch to him, had her hands all over Sam, her clothes were in the same closet. What kinda country yahoo did Sam think he was? Yeah alright, in comparison, he was totally a yahoo.

Goddamnit, all he wanted to do was sleep, that's all. He should have said yes, stay. He fucking should have used him.

* * *

[Hours later]

 

Sam walked out to one of the lounge chairs up on deck and sat down, leaning back, he looked up at the stars and tried to remember the last time he had done this and been happy. It had been a damn long time, even for a vampire it had seemed like a long time... didn't it? He wasn't so sure he knew anymore. The only things he knew anymore were heartache and the salvation of Ruby's blood. Those were his constants, everything else was all a guess. 

Sam hadn't spoken to his family much since he had met Ruby, his emotions numb, he was never really in the mood to call, never felt like talking. Did he miss them? He knew he should, but whether he did or not, he didn't even know. He wondered if this was what it was like for mortals on mind altering medication. Was he addicted to her blood? Did it even really matter anymore if he was?

Cursing his life, Dean headed up the stairs clad in jeans and a tee shirt with an over shirt. He didn't bother combing his hair or putting on shoes since no one would be around this early before dawn. His feet were fucking freezing.... he should'a known better. Up on the deck, he flopped down into a lounge chair and took a breath, only to become aware of a presence. He started to call the ghosts name, then his eyes adjusted and he saw it was Sam, a few lounge chairs away, but sitting facing him. "Don't you ever sleep?" He sat tiredly back.

Sam smelled him long before he heard him walk over and sit a few chairs away, though he kept his gaze on the sky. "No, never." Sam's gaze slowly moved to Dean, "why aren't you?"

He took a deep breath and raised one knee up, his foot flat on the lounge. "Tried. Didn't happen." 

Sam nodded, returning his gaze to the sky. He sighed softly, "I'd move closer, but... not sure you want me to and the TK," he scoffed, shook his head as he lifted a hand running it through his hair and letting his arm fall back over his head.

"Your TK," he chuckled remembering the destruction that followed Sam. "Guess I'm lucky it doesn't touch me." He paused. "You can move closer." 

Sam slowly pulled up and off the lounge, walked over to the chair beside Dean and took a seat, leaning back. Looking up into the sky, Sam smiled slightly for the first time in years. "Yeah, my TK was always kind of a mess, huh?" his smile fell as he looked away, "well, I don't have to worry about that anymore." He looked back over at Dean and offered a small half smile, the mere lifting of the corner of his mouth, before he looked back at the sky again and sighed.

"Yeah... sometimes I thought it was gonna make me broke, having to replace all my crap." He turned his head and looked at Sam's profile. He didn't wanna see him looking so sad. Not anymore. "What do you mean? What's wrong with your TK?" He put his hand out as a thought struck him. "Whoa... if you're gonna bring it up and sex... don't." He didn't even wanna imagine Sam with her, let alone hear it. Whatever Sam said before, Dean couldn't buy they weren't having it.

Sam swallowed and shook his head, frowning, brows furrowed, "I'm half the vampire I used to be, Dean. I'm not the same anymor and I can't stop it," he huffed, forced himself to smile slowly and look back at Dean. "I wouldn't bring _that_ up. I know how badly that hurts." As golden hazel eyes searched Dean's face. Sam frowned, swallowing hard, "kiss me," he whispered, voice raw.

Dean's stomach dropped. He gripped the edge of the lounge chair, but couldn't find the will to tell Sam to take a flying fuck. All that practice, thinking he'd get to say it some time, wasted. Still holding onto the chair, he leaned over, hesitating as his mouth hovered briefly over Sam's, his pulse racing and making it hard for him to think or to pull back. Then he brought his mouth down over Sam's, groaning when he found Sam had opened for him too, and their tongues were already tangling. 

Sam waited, not breathing, golden hazel eyes following each movement Dean made, a dull ache in his chest reminding im of the sharp, horrible ache that use to be there every single day before Ruby's blood. His hands shook slightly where they lay on the lounge before he gripped the edges, leaning slightly toward Dean, waiting...

And then Dean was kissing him and Sam eagerly opened to him, his eyes rolling behind close lids at the feel of his love's kiss after all this time. He lifted a hand from the lounge, intent on holding Dean, but unsure, he hesitated, then finally, gently, laid a hand on Dean's back as he kissed him.

It was the same, but different. There was still that irresistible pull, that electricity between them... that something he hadn't felt with anyone else. It was still effortless, just a touch and his blood was on fire. But Dean had gained experience, lots of it, and he knew how to control the kiss, keep it at a slow burn without letting it combust.

 

Sam stifled the moan that wanted to sound, as his grip tightened on Dean, raising his other arm, Sam wrapped it around Dean, finger tips of both hands now digging into Dean's flesh through his shirts as Sam clung to him. Tears pricked Sam's eyes behind closed lids, but he fought not to let it show, to not ruin this gift that he would cherish the rest of his existence.

He should stop, Dean knew he should. Before this got out of hand. Before he let Sam take him to heaven, and then leave him in hell. Because climbing out of hell had taken years, and he wasn't even sure he was back yet. But each time Sam moved against his mouth, each time his fingers dug into him, each time he tasted just a little more of the gift that had been given and taken just as abruptly, Dean's power to pull back weakened.

Uncurling his fingers, he cupped Sam's face with both hands, sliding them up and down his neck and back again. Their mouth's clung together, their kisses grew more noisy, more desperate. Dean found himself practically out of his chair, pressing against Sam, chest sliding against chest, breathing in Sam's unique and irresistible scent. Holy hell.

He pulled back and, looked into Sam's eyes, frowning. "Your body says one thing, your eyes, something else." They were nowhere near as dark as they should be. But maybe Sam had learned control too. He'd had time to 'practice.'

Sam shook his head, "Don't look at their color, like the TK, they aren't what they use to be, told you, half the vampire I was." Sam clung to Dean, fingertips digging harder into Dean's back through his shirts, afraid that Dean would move, would pull back and walk away from him and never return. Some maniacal laughter sounded in Sam's head as it asked him, 'wasn't that no more than he deserved?' and Sam knew that it was right. All the argument in the world, all the good intentions in the world, wouldn't piece together the heart he had broken without meaning to, wouldn't heal this relationship, would never make him whole again. So, Sam clung to him with all his might, desperation in his eyes and in his actions, his grip.

One more. What would one more hurt? Dean couldn't think of a single thing so he slanted his mouth over Sam's again, kissing him wildly, all pretense of control abandoned. One kiss... one... and it had to count, because it would have to last him a lifetime. He pushed his tongue inside Sam's mouth, felt him do that little sucking thing that always drove him crazy. Moaning, he moved his hand behind Sam's neck and dragged him closer, kissing him harder, tongue fucking him to a rhythm that played in his memory. So good... so fucking good. If they'd been mentally connected, he'd have demanded to know why, why he threw this away. How he could have thrown it away like he had.

As the questions plagued Dean once again, he almost sobbed. But real men didn't cry... children did. And he was all grown up now. Choking, he ran out of breath and pulled away. Seeing the bright sheen in Sam's eyes didn't make him feel any better, where he'd once thought it would. Taking a breath, he started to sit back into his own chair, eyes still locked with Sam's.

Sam slowly let him go, tears stung his eyes but his face was the same emotionless mask he always wore now, even as inside he was screaming, crying for Dean not to pull away to come back, that he was sorry. His eyes slowly closed as he swallowed, a shaky hand moving back to the lounge. "Missed that," he opened his eyes, looking at Dean, "you." He forced a small smile.

"Not enough, Sammy. Not enough. Or you'd have come got me." He didn't even try to smile back. "I'm gonna go to sleep now. Wake me before anyone else gets up here. I don't like people watching me sleep." 

Sam's smile fell at Dean's words. _Would have come if I could still feel you, if I wasn't so... blinded. Wanted to, thought about it every day._ He sighed softly, nodding to Dean's words. He would watch over his 'blond haired little boy' as he slept... just like he used to.


	30. Chapter 30

The next day, Dean was prowling the ship, still looking for that damned ring, when he suddenly felt like shit. He doubled over as his stomach cramped. A sound broke out of him, drawing too much attention.

Gasping for breath, he headed down the stairs, his hand flat on the corridor wall as waves of pain and nausea continued to assault him. In his room, he dragged the trash can next to his bed, and sat heavily down. What the hell? What had he eaten? He hadn't had much once he'd seen Sam, and before that it had been just a few appetizers and a couple of drinks.

Another wave of pain hit him, this time between the eyes. Blindly, he reached for his duffel bag, found the tylenol and downed more than he should. Immediately, it all came back out when he threw up.

For hours, he was holding his stomach, or his aching head, and throwing up. And through it all, he heard Sam playing. He knew the moment Sam took over from the other pianist, knew his song... he'd _lived it_ just a few hours before dawn. Eat that, Ruby.

 _Ruby. Please Ruby..._ The words looped inside Dean’s head, torturing him as much as the pain. Sam said ‘no’, but he'd heard Sam. He'd seen how they touched. She fed him her blood, she was his substitute. Oh God, thinking about it was making it worse. He decided to take a shower, and got up, practically stumbling under the cool water. He held onto the tile wall, hoping his legs wouldn't give out... still thinking about her and Sam. Something was off. Something.

When he felt slightly better, he pushed the door open and almost slipped to the ground. Gripping the sink, he start to get up, when he noticed something. Bending over again, he reached out and pulled the leather pouch tied to the piping leading to the sink. Even before he opened it, he knew what it was. Hex bag. Goddamnit... who...

Well he didn't have to think real hard. That Bitch!

He pulled on some shorts and his jeans, then got his lighting fluid. Tossing the contents of the hex back into the metal sink, he poured the lighting fluid over it and set it on fire. If the fire alarm went off, he was fucked. But he'd rather get shouted at then give HER the satisfaction of dying.

A couple of hours later, he was still not a hundred percent, but he was able to walk outside. It wasn't yet evening, so no suits were required, thank God. When he reached an upper deck, he saw Sam, with her. They were mingling, smiling. He took a good look at Sam, noticing how strangely robotic he seemed at times. Yeah the Cullens had always been strange, and sort of aloof, but Sam less so than the others. And his eyes, they'd always held a special fire... and nowadays, it was gone more often than not.

Sam knew the moment Dean walked up on deck, he didn't even have to turn his head away from the man and woman that were going on and on about his playing at their upcoming opening for a new museum. Instead Sam nodded at all the right times, forcing fake smiles when he knew he should, but his eyes darted toward Dean. 

It was then that Ruby, pulled on Sam’s arm and he had to lean to hear her softly spoken words in order that others wouldn’t wonder how in the world he heard her. "Chasing him is only going to hurt you. You're here to mingle with your fans, not to look like a love sick puppy, Sam." 

Sam pulled to his full height nodding as he told a clever fib regarding what she had said, something that made everyone chuckle, but for the life of him he couldn't even remember what it was a second after it left his lips. He didn't agree with her, didn't think he was chasing anyone or looking like a love sick puppy, though he pretended to agree to listen to her instructions. He really didn’t possess the energy, at least mentally, to argue.

Excusing himself Sam walked over to the table with the day’s lunch buffet, popping a rather rare piece of steak into his mouth without the benefit of a plate. He stood there now as he ate it, his back to everyone else, and hoping they wouldn't pay him any attention. Ruby liked this part, he didn't. He'd rather be in the room playing piano or better yet -- he thought of days long ago -- looking at the laptops and researching hunts. He almost, almost smiled.

Waiting only a few moments, Dean headed to the buffet but walked past most of the offerings with an empty plate, and came to stand next to Sam. "Lemme look at your eyes." 

Sam glanced over at him as he chewed... and chewed... " _How_ can you people _do_ this for so long?" he quirked a brow when Sam actually thought about the request, slowly looking over at him, "Why?"

"You're eating... food." Yeah he'd known Sam 'could' eat, but he'd always claimed food tasted like crap. 

Sam shrugged a shoulder as he reached for another bloody piece of steak, "'Nothin' better to do," he mumbled, popping the new piece of steak into his mouth. 

He stared into Sam's eyes and saw that his pupils were hella dilated, but his eyes were a clear golden green. "Remember that time, in my bed? When I teased you too much and you bit? You couldn't stop? You said my blood tasted different, it was sweet... addicting. You didn't want to stop, even when Emmett was fighting you?" 

Sam swallowed, nodding slowly. Yeah, he remembered it. God, the taste of Dean's blood was like mana from heaven. How could he _ever_ forget? Inside, deep inside, where a part of him, the part that still had a voice, wanted to moan at the memory. Would have had his eyes changing to deep onyx in a heart beat, but on the surface, Sam continued to stare at Dean. 

No change in eye color. "You said the sound of it rushing in my veins drives you nuts... that you can trace my veins with your tongue and feel the blood under, you remember that?" 

Again, Sam nodded, again, his inner self _feeling_ what he used to, while his outter self remained numb and cool. 

Still golden. "You were fucking me so hard that time, you almost broke my hips." 

Sam hung his head, "Sorry," he muttered, reaching for another piece of steak, and waving a waiter over, "can I get more of this... like nearly mooing?" the waiter smiled and nodded before hurrying off to do as he had been requested. 

Sam looked over at Dean, "Want some steak?"

"Nah." He still felt like throwing up, and the thought of bloody steak... ugh. "Did you drink from her? Sam?" Dean snapped his fingers, wanting to look in the vampire's eyes. "Did you drink from her this morning," he asked, his words evenly spaced. Compared to right before dawn, Sam was nearly a zombie. 

Sam looked at Dean for a long moment, opened his mouth to answer only to glance past him at Ruby, before looking back, "Why would you want to know that, Dean?" Sam asked him, brow furrowed. 

"Sammy! The Westshires want to say hello to you!" Ruby called to him and Sam sighed, nodding. "I have to go," he told Dean softly, before walking off to do as he'd been told.

Sonova... She won that round. Let's see who'd win the next one. It sure wasn't gonna be a fucking bitch named Ruby.

Dean waited a few minutes, then he casually used his pen knife to slice his index finger. A few blood droplets hit the ground and he turned slowly walking out, without looking back at either of them.

Sam had been standing making small talk about what he wasn't quite sure, something about horse breeds and the lack of money in ranching these days when his he smelled it. It was faint, just barely tickling the edges of the numb haze he lived in, but he smelled it. His head snapped up, eyes widening as they immediately darkened to a deep golden hazel. 

Ruby looked over at him frowning, "Sam? What is it? What's wrong?" 

Sam hung his head, feeling his fangs begin to descend, "I smell _his_ blood." he whispered, too quietly for a human to hear. 

Ruby narrowed her eyes as she scanned the crowd for Dean, wrapping an arm around Sam's waist. Making excuses and apologies she escorted Sam to the stairs, half walking, half dragging him toward their room.

When Sam didn't show, Dean knew round two belonged to the witch. Motherfuck...

* * *

Dean didn't push it. He wanted Ruby to think she'd won, and that nothing could touch her. It was their greatest downfall, these supervamps. And he knew how to play 'em. Just like in pool, let the opponent think you're an idiot, or you're drunk, or lazy, or incompetent. Let them hang themselves. So he went about his business, trying to get the ghost girl to show and searching when she didn't. Pretty much ignoring Sam and Ruby, and doing his own thing.

At night, Dean came back upstairs in his suit. He'd caught a glimpse of Sam in a different tux, and that bitch in a red dress, her hands all over Sam. Gritting his teeth, he stuck to his guns and walked outside and went and stood leaning over the railing. Sooner or later, Sam would come to him. He would.

Sam stood smiling politely, one arm wrapped around Ruby as she had hers around his waist, her other moved back and forth between his chest and shaking hands of people who came up to them. Sam was holding onto a drink glass so thankfully he only had to smile and nod when the thousand and one people came over to meet the 'big new musician'. 

As soon as Dean walked into the area, Sam knew it, his back going more ridged, though he tried to hide it, from Ruby. He hadn't hid anything from her in nine years, but now... 

Excusing himself with an excuse of needing to go look through the music that he had just finished earlier, Sam walked away from Ruby and the others. Walked outside toward Dean, who thankfully stood just out of Ruby's line of sight. 

Sam ambled up behind him slowly, one hand sliding into his pants pocket as he moved, "Evening," he muttered softly, leaning his free hand on the railing as he looked out at the water. Sam licked his lips and looked back at Dean, "I know what you did earlier... why?"

"Does it make a difference?" He turned. 

Sam quirked a brow, "Why do I think this answer is going to make or break me?" he huffed and looked back out at the water. "I don't even know what to answer anymore, don't know what to say to _anyone_ , unless Ruby tells it to me." He hung his head, slowly looking over at Dean. "Except you," he shrugged a shoulder, "usually. Right now?" he shook his head, "I just wondered why you bled in a roomful of people when you know what it does to me. Did you want them all to know?" he glanced at the other people on board then looked back at Dean, "To know that the guy with the odd music really is just a monster?"

"I wanted your attention. It didn't work." Clasping his hands together over the railing, squeezing so tight he was in slight pain, Dean looked out at the sea. "Doesn't that seem... off to you, Sammy?" He wasn't even going to say how it made him feel. Yeah, he had no right to feel the things he was feeling, but he couldn't help it. Some things never changed. 

Sam looked at him, "You had my attention. You _always_ have my attention. We could be in Madison Square Garden and _you_ alone would have all my attention," he huffed. "Worked better than you think it did, actually. I had to be escorted out of here and downstairs," he nodded, "fangs started to elongate, eyes darken." He glanced over at Dean and shrugged, "you know the drill. I went vampy." 

At the silence from Dean, Sam continued. "As for it being odd that it can be stopped," he shook his head, "no, it doesn't seem 'odd' to me, it's the whole reason behind why I drink from her." He looked out at the water, forearms braced on the railing, he laced his fingers together and hung his head. 

"Hmm. Escorted out. Like a goddamned prisoner." He couldn't help the vehemence in his voice, that was one thing he couldn't stand, the thought of Sam a prisoner again, in any form or capacity. Dean’s jaw muscle pulsed. "What if I asked you to stop? Would you?" Afraid of the answer, he turned to look into Sam's eyes. They were a little more natural now, but not completely.

Sam swallowed hard as he pulled his head up, pulled his hands slightly apart, rubbing them together slowly. "Dean, I--" he sighed. "Why? Why would you ask me to stop?" he looked over at him.

"Because I think you're a junkie, and you won't be able to," he answered, honestly. "You think she's helping you, but she'd just like any dealer. Stop for twenty four hours. That's easier than thinking in terms of forever."

Sam shook his head, "No. I'm sorry. I can't, I won't." He let out a breath, "I won't feel the pain I used to feel," he shook his head, "not ever again. Ruby makes sure of that for me."

"The hell she..." Dean slammed his fist on the railing. "Twenty four hours, Sam. I'm not sleeping with anyone, there won't be any pain. Do it," he asked again. "You say you're half the vampire you were... then let’s see if you feel any of your strength coming back. You gotta trust me on this, you know I know what I'm talking about." He looked intently into Sam's eyes.

Sam licked his lips, glancing toward where he had left Ruby before looking back at Dean, "Let me drink from you instead."

"You lost that right--" Dean started hotly, angry and afraid of the consequences if he let Sam. He didn't want Sam seeing every hurt, every defeat, he didn't want him in his mind... he didn't want to hear his voice from inside his mind, where he was even more persuasive, where it was harder to say no, to think clearly.

Thinking a bit harder, Dean ran his hand over his face. "From a cup. Not the old way, it's too personal." He met Sam's eyes again.

Sam looked at Dean a long moment, jaw clenched. He pulled away from the railing, hands curling into fists at his sides. "Then I'll think about it," he told Dean. "If I decide to," he waved a hand, "go that route, I'll let you know. I should go, I think it's feeding time now for the freaks. I'll see ya around." Sam turned and started walking back, just as Ruby hurried to his side, speaking low to him and glancing behind them angrily at Dean as they walked. She didn't lead him back to the others however, but to the stairwell and down.

"Sonova..." He watched in disbelief as Sam walked off with THAT woman.

* * *

Five minutes passed. Then ten. Then Dean couldn't wait any longer. It looked like Sam wasn't gonna resist, that he'd meant it when he said it was feeding time. Well goddamit, if he couldn't resist, then Dean would make him.

Decision made, he ignored the shouting voices announcing the presence of the ghost, and headed straight for Sam's suite. Without knocking, he turned the key and walked inside.

Sam was sitting on the sofa, with the bitch in his lap, his head bent, lapping at her inner arm. Her chants raised his hackles, or that's what he told himself. It wasn't the way she was sitting on Sam, her legs exposed, rubbing against him almost like a cat in heat. It wasn't that Sam had promised him _this_ was theirs, only theirs. 

In two strides, he had his hand around her wrist and was hauling her off Sam. Dangerous, hell yeah. But just as he had when he was a lot younger, he trusted Sam to protect him. Even half drugged, even addicted and needing HER blood, he'd stop her if necessary. "Next time, I'll have the right kind of bullets and they'll be lodged in your brain," he ground out, releasing and moving out of her way. "Sam, get up. You DON'T need this, get the fuck up." When he saw how motionless Sam was, he stood still and opened his arms. "Get up, or I will _let her_ kill me."

Sam was lost in the mind numbing haze, so lost that other than the drone of Ruby's incantation, he didn't hear or notice a thing until she wasn't there anymore, until his double fisted grip on her arm had been broken and he sat in a daze, watching but unable to care enough to move. 

It was like watching a television show where you recognized the actors, but other than that, there was no response. He knew it was Dean who was pulling Ruby away, that it was Dean she was trying to kick and punch, but he just sat watching it. 

_Sam, get up. You DON'T need this, get the fuck up. Get up, or I will let her kill me._ He heard it, heard every word, but it was as though they didn't quite make sense, didn't follow a pattern of speech he knew. 

"Stay there, Sam!" Ruby spat at him and Sam's attention went to her, then back to Dean. He wasn't sure which one he was suppose to listen to, but he knew one thing, he wasn't finished feeding. "Need more," his words were whisper soft, eyes glassy, pupils dilated. 

Ruby huffed and rolled her eyes, "In a minute." She turned then, kicking out, her foot impacting the center of Dean's chest and knocking him back into the wall. She grabbed up a pair of scissors, ones they had used earlier on clothing tags. Holding them like a knife she lunged at Dean.

"Oh hell no, bitch," he wasn't gonna take that hit, cause dying wasn't really on his 'to do' list. Out maneuvering her, he knocked the scissors out of her hand, but made her even angrier. He saw her fist coming, might have been able to avoid it or at least roll with it so it hurt less, but he didn't. He took it in face, his head snapping toward Sam and his blood splattering over Sam's face and snow-white shirt.

The instant her furious dark eyes met his, Dean knew she understood. "Hit me again," he dared, knowing his scent was probably up both her and Sam's nostrils and one or both of them would have blood lust soon. "Go on..." he chuckled, and kicked her in the chest, at the same time landing on Sam's lap. Before she came back to her senses, he had his bloody mouth over Sam's and was kissing him, arms around his shoulders, dragging him close, bleeding across and in his mouth. _Help me._

Sam moaned softly at the taste of blood on his tongue, blood he had nearly forgotten the taste of, blood that he craved more than he did twilight. His arms moved, wrapping around Dean as he kissed him back hard, sucking, licking up every trace of blood he could find, his eyes, drugged and dazed darkened to near black, his fangs elongated more than they had in nine years as the blood pounded in his temples. 

More. He wanted, _needed_ more. Had to have it, like a human needed to breathe, he had to have this. Somewhere in the back of Sam's mind, he heard Dean tell him no up on deck, tell him that he could drink his blood from a glass only, that this was too personal, but he couldn't stop himself, didn't even know that he really wanted to. Hell, he hated him anyway, why not take, steal from him what he craved so badly now while he had the chance? It wasn't like hate had degrees. Dean couldn't hate him any more than he already did. 

With a low growl, Sam's arms tightened around Dean possessively, locking around him like twin steel bands, holding him in place, making it impossible for Dean to get away. Sam's lip curled as they kissed, baring his fangs more, then sank them into Dean's tongue with a low long groan.

The sharp, unexpected pain had Dean shouting and struggling uselessly, his scream swallowed and his body in an iron hold. This wasn't like cutting his tongue on Sam's fangs, it hurt like a sonovabitch. It wasn't what he'd expected or wanted. It went beyond Dean's plan, and a flash of worry wormed into his mind. _Sammy?_ The dead silence scared him.

Sam's body jerked the moment Dean's blood gushed over his tongue, the second that the un-'infected' coppery tang passed over his taste buds, Sam was lost.

Ruby pulled to her feet, angry black eyes on the human and _her_ vampire, a slow evil smile pulling at her lips. "Drain him dry, Sammy. Do it! For me," she told him softly.

The pain had dulled, like it always did. Dean struggled not to be pulled into the erotic web of a vampire's bloodlust. It was easier now, in some ways, to fight it. Their mental connection was _cold_. There was nothing, but what Sam had said was the usual reaction of humans to being fed on by him, a feeling of being wrapped up in warmth.

Her instructions, her cheerleading efforts to have Sam drain him were a big threat. Even without her there, whether Sam would stop was a big question... now that he couldn't hear him inside his head. _Sam... Sam... SAM!_ His mental shouts were ignored or unheard.

Instead of struggling, Dean clung to Sam, kissing him to the degree he could, easing his tongue back and forth, trying to slowly work it away in the most natural way, engaging Sam's own tongue. He worked at it, felt Sam's groans and tried to ignore his body's reaction. Hell... he hadn't been this hard since... yeah, a long time. Finally, he found the moment and pulled his tongue out and licked Sam's mouth, still showing him it wasn't a 'no.' "More later, okay baby... you had enough." Seeing the flat look in Sam's eyes, and afraid of what he might do if he pulled away completely, he slid his tongue inside again, kissing him hard. "Close my wound Sam."

Sam looked at Dean, his heart aching dully as he his mind told him that Dean didn't mean it, that there wouldn't be a 'later', but he wouldn't hurt Dean for anything, not even numbed with his emotions flat and half dead, Dean was _always_ what came first with him. He nodded his head, eyes slowly slipping closed as he leaned in, dragging his tongue across his fang and opening his mouth for Dean to dip his tongue inside so he could heal. 

Ruby narrowed her eyes, stalking angrily up behind Dean and grabbed a handful of his short cropped hair, jerking his head back cutting off their impending 'kiss'. Sam's eyes flickered up to her, leaving Dean's face, though his grip tightened possessively on him. 

"Drink. him. dry., Samuel! This." she moved her hand, gripped Dean's head in both of hers in an iron like grip, "this is the bastard, _I_ have saved you from! For _nine_ years Sam!" her voice lowered and sounded more sympathetic. “When I found you, you were _so_ broken, I re-made you, made you _forget_. I took away your pain. Plucked it out and gave you your life back... just like I promised to do. Now, I want payment. KILL HIM! For me," she hissed.  
Sam's gaze slowly moved back to Dean's face.

It took everything Dean had not to struggle. Not to try to break her hold, and Sam's. If she pulled to hard and Sam held on, he'd tear apart. If Sam listened to her and sank his fangs into his throat... it could be over. If she hit him hard enough now that he couldn't avoid her strikes, he could be dead, even with his own enhanced strength. All those things ran in his mind and made his heart stutter and fight for life.

Licking his lips, Dean tried to say words that might get through to Sam. "You made me. Re-made me, remember, Sam? You gonna break what you made?" Then he lowered his voice. "She's hurting me."

Sam leaned in, dipped his head, his mouth near Dean's throat. 

Ruby smiled down at him in triumph. "That's a good boy, Sam. Drink him, kill him. I'll take care of everything, just like I always do." 

Sam's tongue darted out to lick across Dean's neck, a low moan escaping him before he pressed his tongue flat against Dean's neck. He listened to and felt Dean’s blood singing through his veins. "Let go." Sam whispered against Dean's neck, though the words were directed at Ruby. 

Sam pulled to his feet as Ruby's hands fell away from Dean like he had told her. With Dean still in his arms, he walked across the room toward the bedroom, kicking the door closed behind him, Sam carried Dean to the bed, laying him down and straddling his hips. 

He pulled his head back then, looking down into Dean's face, "Would _never_ hurt you."

Sam didn't know how much he had hurt him. Maybe part of it was that bitch Ruby, Dean would give him that. He'd just bet Ruby was pacing outside, waiting for Sam to bring out his limp body. "I know," Dean soothed. "I know."

Speaking hurt, and his tongue was feeling swollen inside his mouth. "Heal me?" He slowly stuck his tongue out, wondering if he was all sorts of crazy to tempt fate, tempt Sam with the vision of his punctured and still bleeding tongue.

Sam stifled a groan as he nodded, his gaze fixed on Dean's bleeding tongue. His eyes slipped closed before his own tongue darted out, running over Dean's, this time a groan did escape, low and soft, before Sam drew his tongue back into his mouth, nicking it on his fang again, then lowered his mouth, slanting it over Dean's. 

Sam tangled his bleeding tongue with Dean's, letting his blood heal him, gently running his tongue along Dean's to touch every area before he slowly pulled back. "Give it a minute," he told him softly, "remember?" Rhe corner of his mouth quirked in a sad smile, "takes a minute." 

Sam's arms around Dean moved so that Dean could be more comfortable, even as Sam still clung to him. He lowered his body down, his dark golden hazel orbs filled with love, searched Dean's face. 

"I remember everything Sam. _You're the one who forgot_ ," he put his hand out and touched the side of Sam's face, examining his eyes. Some of the flatness was gone. "You need to change your shirt. They're gonna need you on stage any minute." 

Sam hung his head, nodding. "Didn't mean to forget." His words were too quiet for a human to hear.

Dean knew Ruby had to be listening, and he knew she'd know he was usurping 'her' role right here, right now. "Come on, change into another shirt," he started to push up, biting his lip as Sam's groin bumped against his. Old feelings, things he'd tried so hard to put behind him. "Sam, please, get up." He knew his breathing was erratic and there wasn't a damned thing he could do about it. 

Sam licked his lips, "What if I don't care about what they want on stage? What if I only care about here? Now?" 

"Samuel!?" Ruby called out. 

Sam ran his hand down Dean's side and back up, cupping the side of Dean's face as he leaned in brushing his lips across Dean's. 

Dean's eyes fluttered shut as Sam's lips ghosted over his. God... was this really happening, or was it another of his goddamned dreams that he denied? He sucked in a breath. "I don't know Sam, what happens to high fallutent froofy piano players who're bad? Hmm?" Arching his neck, he brought their lips together in a shallow kiss, wanting so much more and afraid... so fucking afraid of what he wanted.

Sam's gaze traveled over Dean, his hand sliding down from Dean's face, down his side, up under his tee, touching the skin of Dean's hip. "I don't know... maybe they are finally happy again? Don't need their music to drown out the feelings raging through them, feelings that even magic can't take away." He smiled sadly. 

"Samuel! Now! You have to go! Don't screw everything up!" Ruby barked at him from the other side of the door. 

Sam hung his head before slowly looking back into Dean's eyes. "Come hear me play tonight? Hear your song from up front, where you were always meant to hear it?" he asked him softly. 

Where they could see each others' eyes and feel... feel everything ... every memory that was set to music? It could tear his soul out. "You bet." Dean took a breath and nodded. "I'll be right there." He only released his breath when Sam moved off him, then he quickly followed Sam off the bed, both of them ignoring Ruby's rantings. The fact that she didn't simply push the door open and have her say surprised Dean. Maybe her power over Sam fluxuated? There were times Sam seemed close to normal and others, like when he'd snapped to attention at her command, when he was little more than a slave to his... addiction? Her spell. Same difference.

Dean went through the closet and made sure the bitch knew he'd chosen what Sam was gonna wear. Watching Sam change, that was a whole nuther matter. He tried to turn his eyes away but caught glimpses in the mirror... just enough to remember how Sam felt, how he'd react to his touch, how he tasted. By the time Sam was ready, and he'd helped him with his bowtie, Dean was a little tongue tied, which was unusual.

Sam opened the door and they walked out together, passing Ruby. Before he slipped out the front door, Dean turned and gave her the middle finger. Round three belonged to him.

* * *  
Ruby had retied Sam's tie three times and told him over and over that his shirt was horrid and he should change it, but Sam hadn't listened. He wore the one Dean picked out for him, he didn't care what she said, didn't care if it did look horrid. Not that he saw anything wrong with it. It was just as crisp and perfect as any of the other ones he had brought with him. He knew it wasn't the shirt, it was the fact that she _knew_ Dean had picked it. Just as she had known Dean had tied his bow tie. 

It was time to play, play Dean's song, play for him. Tonight, Sam wasn't playing for himself. He wasn't playing so that he could remember, so that through the haze in his brain his heart would remember. Tonight, he was playing for _them_. As he walked across the stage to the piano, Sam was sure that if his dead heart were beating it would have been skipping beats. As it was, he was nervous, something he hadn't been in years. He wanted the song to be perfect, wanted Dean to hear it and remember, to know, to feel each note with him. 

He sat down at the piano and was taken aback at the silence that filled the room, did the crowds always get that quiet? Was he just now noticing that? Or somehow did they too know that tonight was different? Taking a deep breath, Sam raised his hands to the keys and closed his eyes, slowly, and with great care, he began to play. 

It wasn't long before he was caught up in the moment, in memories and images in his mind as the music rose in volume and tempo. Lips parted, head tilted slightly back, Sam's fingers moved across the keys, the melody of Dean's blood in his ears, the sound of his heartbeat played out on piano for all to hear.

The instant Sam appeared on stage, Dean raised his head and his entire being focused on Sam. His gaze raked over Sam's pale features and blood red lips... lips that had been on his just a half hour ago. Golden green eyes that could go black with passion, that once held so much emotion that it was sometimes hard to stare into them for too long. His long fingers moving effortlessly over the keys, caressing them with his fingertips, producing a rhythm that only two people in the room truly recognized. 

At first the melody was so soft, you had to strain to hear it. It was steady and unrushed. Then there was a lilt for a heart beat, and another. In his mind's eye, he recalled those moments before dawn, up on the deck yesterday, when Sam asked to sit closer. His own heart had started to pump just a little faster. Then, the raw pain and need in Sam's voice as he'd asked for a kiss had sent his heart tumbling. That's what Sam was playing, the sounds of his heart tumbling... unsteady... uncertain.... unable to resist.

Dean's chest tightened. The music grew loud all of a sudden, as unexpected and painful as that kiss, stopping as suddenly as it had started. The sound of clapping brought Dean around and he let out a breath he didn't know he was holding.   
Sam's eyes fluttered open as he pulled his hands away from the keys for a moment, turning his attention to those applauding. That's when his gaze sought out and found Dean. The corner of Sam's mouth lifted slightly as he looked at him, before he tore his gaze away to look back out at the sea of others. 

With a deep breath, Sam turned back to face the piano one more as the applause slowly died away. Lifting his hands to the keys, Sam bit his lip and started to play. The tune started small, light and carefree, deepening and growing in intensity rapidly, then leveled out. Played steadily, Sam turned his head, his gaze locking with Dean's. Hands moved rapidly over the keys, as golden hazel orbs stared intently into green, slowly darkening as he looked at him, darkening as the melody began to quicken once more, building to a fevered pitch, until the keys seemed to be getting slammed down with each press of a finger, the note so direct and intense. 

Then as the song reached it's peak, the highest, fastest crescendo, Sam's breaths having quickened with the tempo, he suddenly drew his hands from the keys, leaving those listening to stare in dumb founded silence as always, for a long moment before the first sound of clapping began. Sam's gaze, his attention, all of his focus however, was not on whether or not the others in the room liked it, he didn't even hear the applause this time, not really. His attention, his entire focus was on Dean, as onyx clashed with jade.

It was a good thing no one but Sam was looking at him, or they might have wondered. Dean was stunned by his physical reaction to the music. His heart was racing, his breaths coming out in labored gasps, like he'd just run a marathon. Just like when his lust would build to a point where he couldn't control himself, didn't think he could take any more, and then Sam would bite... and joined like that, Sam's lust would slam into him and they'd both burn like an inferno, feeding each others' needs, pleasure and pain, ratcheting up until they exploded the way his music ended.

He knew he was flushed, his skin felt like it was burning. Gaze locked with Sam's, he licked his lips, swallowing hard, and gave a brief nod. He just wasn't capable of more, not right now.

Sam offered Dean a small sad smile, tearing his gaze away he swallowed hard and looked at the piano keys. He had hoped for... he wasn't sure. More? But, Dean hadn't seemed as affected by the music as he was. He could hear the rapid beating of Dean's heart, even over all the other hearts in the room, but then, all of them seemed to be beating faster. All of them seemed to have had a reaction to his music, it was always that way. But, the one that he had wanted to have a reaction, the one he had wanted to have _feel_ because of what he had played, he didn't seem... For the first time in nine years, Sam wished he could feel Dean's feelings and know, truly know. 

Frowning, brows furrowed, Sam raised his hands and began to play again. He had one last song that was his masterpiece, it was the one he normally played as an encore only, but tonight he would play it during the show. It was the one from when he and Dean had made love in his room on the lounge, the way Dean's heart had sounded, the first time they had heard one another in their minds. The song was longer, the music rising to it's cresendo, but unlike the others, it didn’t ending there, it went on, the notes high and delicate, like the music of angels in heaven.   
Sam had even named it, "I touched Heaven." It was never on the Playbills, but he did add it to one album, an album he had made not too long ago, one that Ruby had yelled, ranted and raved about him making, but he had done it anyway.   
It was the one that, he was sure, had 'put him on the map' in the music world. 

By the time the song ended, Sam himself, had been so affected, that he simply rose from the bench and walked off the stage.

Dean rose almost at the same time, walking out the door to the open air deck and wiping at his eyes. It was a love song, not sex. That much he was sure of, and it hurt so fucking bad because they'd had that. They'd had that. It had been in the palm of their hands and they'd let it slip away, just like that.

* * *

As soon as Sam made it off the stage, tears fell from his eyes as he choked back a sob. Ruby glared, watching him walk past her. "And _that's_ why I told you _never_ to play that," she grumbled, before turning to follow after him. 

Sam was on deck mingling with the others, answering questions and simply playing the part that he always did after a concert, allowing Ruby to answer most all of the questions unless they were directed to him specifically, and then only muttering a short soft answer before turning it back over to her like she’d taught him. This was where she shined, it wasn't his thing to be in the public light. 

As the crowds around them began to disperse, Ruby backed Sam into a corner offering him her blood to help with the pain evident in his features. But Sam had shook his head, telling her that he didn't want it. _That_ had obviously been the wrong thing to say to her, as she ended up pressing closer to him, nearly pinning him against the wall with her body, her mouth near his ear as she whispered to him seductively. 

Sam had kept his arms from her, his hands at his side, but in the end, the words she spoke, about how Dean would never love him again, how she was all he had now, asking if he was he willing to _walk away_ from that too? Had him agreeing to drink her blood, needing it to take away the pain clenching at his dead heart. 

Ruby always knew just the right things to say to make Sam do as she wanted and this was no different. He was too easy sometimes, simple. Sam was the 'real deal', in love and it made what she did, finding and touching the pain of those who hurt, even easier. Most weren't as easy as Sam, their love not as deep, as strong, but Sam... it was like taking candy from a baby. 

He was on his way back up on deck now, after the last half hour he had spent in the room with Ruby, drinking from her deeply, finally gaining enough of his sense of self to be able to walk out the door. She had stood there, arms crossed over her chest as he walked out, a small evil smirk on her face. He'd be back, she had fed him enough this time that she knew he'd be back, and it wouldn't take an entire night. No matter _what_ Dean Winchester thought. There were some things more powerful than love... her black magic, much to his surprise, he would come to find, was one of those things. 

Sam walked through the crowd, the faces barely registering as he made his way, even as they spoke to him, told him they had enjoyed his music, his attention on only one thing, Dean. Walking up behind him where he stood near the railing at the back of the yacht, Sam's lips quirked upward slightly. "I lost track of you."

"That's one way of putting it," Dean answered, not turning around as he struggled to get a grip on his emotions, the anger... no he wasn't gonna own up to 'hurt'... simmering in him. Round four had been a stunning defeat. He squeezed the railing, his knuckles whitening, before he abruptly turned and looked into golden eyes that once again lacked the emotional warmth that should be radiating from them.

Sam licked his lips and tore his gaze from Dean's suddenly feeling ashamed for what he had done, for feeding, for drinking Ruby's blood. "So, um, did you like your songs?" he asked, stepping up to the railing, one hand taking hold of the cool wood, "I don't normally play the last one, but I wanted you to hear it," he shrugged a shoulder as he looked over at Dean. "Ruby doesn't like it much."

"How could I not like it?" He asked, at last. There really were no words to express what the music did to him. "What about you? Did playing it... remembering hurt so much you had to wipe it out?" Maybe he understood Sam blocking him out because he'd gone on with his life, and been with others. He knew the extreme reaction it brought out in him, at least at first. But what did he consider pain now? Or was he just hooked on her blood, was it as simple as that?

Sam licked his lips as he pulled his hand away from the railing, crossing his arms over his chest, jaw clenched, muscle twitching, he shook his head. "No," he answered, voice raw. He frowned, brows furrowing, "I told her no, said I didn't want any." He sighed, "But, I was upset and she..." he hung his head, "she pointed out a few things to me." Sam lifted his head, eyes shining with unshed tears, "truths, that I was wanting to deny." 

"Upset about what? What happened between the time you walked off the stage and you..." He let out a breath, his mouth flattening. "What could be so fucking bad that you need to numb yourself every time you're up there, and every other hour? What Sam? Look at you," he touched his shoulder. "Successful, at the top of the world, everyone loves you... you've got a never ending life, a passion in your music, you've got time... money, what the hell drives you to dope yourself up? I can't help you if you don't want to help yourself."

Sam frowned, staring at the water. _I don't want your help. I want your love back._ He took a breath, "I..." he hung his head, "those songs, every one of them are you, Dean. The passion in my music, the passion in my life..." he looked over at him, "it's you."

This, he didn't want to hear. This, he didn't know how to answer. Cocking his head, Dean waited to hear something he could formulate an answer to.

Sam looked back out at the water. "Not having you with me, not being with you _not loving you_ , it tears me up inside," he hung his head, "always has."

"Bullshit." His answer came out so fast, he never had time to think about it. "Things happen, life happens. Hearts break. Why do you get to numb it, huh? I had to live through it, every fucking day of it... bet everyone here on the ship has their story, they're living through their own pain, people do it all the time. You don't die of heartbreak. Not even dramatic vampires," he said, slightly angry about all those years he'd hurt, he'd suffered. "It's about time you manned up... own it," he slapped his palm over the railing. 

Sam nodded, "I do own it, it's mine and I know it," he said softly, slowly raising his head to look back out at the water. "Her blood, it's..." he licked his lips, "it's all I drink now. How I feed. I don't," Sam frowned, brows furrowing, "I don't _hunt_ anymore. Ruby, like I said, she takes care of me."

"Take's care of you, I'll bet," he ground out, jaw tight. 

Golden hazel orbs slid to Dean, looking at him from the corner of his eye. "I only drink from her, Dean." He shook his head, "I don't..." he looked down continuing to shake his head, "it's just blood."

"Just blood... just blood..." he laughed, pushing down on the urge to hit him... hit something. Just like that, he sliced his index finger again, showed Sam the thickening scarlet line. "Just blood?" 

Sam took in a gasp of breath, eyes darkening just slightly, though they would have darkened completely were it not for the magic blood flowing through him, drugging him, numbing emotions and senses. 

He smeared it against Sam's lips, pulling away when he felt Sam move towards him. "Like this? She wave it around in front of you? Make you follow like a puppy in heat, is that it?" 

Sam's tongue darted out to lick the blood from his lips, his gaze intent on Dean's. 

He wiped the rest of the blood over Sam's mouth again, and stepped back. "She make you do stuff to get it, just a little taste... and promise you more if you're good?" His voice was rising, but the wind prevented it from carrying toward the other passengers. "That's not _just blood_ Sam. That's addiction. That's extortion. That's enslavement, that's what it is."

Sam shook his head, "You don't know how I was when she found me," he took a step closer to Dean, "how broken I was, she promised me she could pluck out the pain, give me my life back." He took another step forward, nodding, "there are...'rules', but..." Sam reached for Dean, "it's a small price to pay to not feel what's _mine_ touch someone else." 

Sam's fingers wrapped around Dean's wrist in an iron grip, slowly he brought Dean's finger to his mouth. His tongue darted out to lick at the wound, a low moan sounding deep in his throat. "But nothing, no one, not even magic blood meant to trap me, tastes as good as this. Only your blood does this to me." Sam's lips quirked slightly upward, "don't look so shocked, Dean, I'm not stupid, I once had a wise hunter teach me about witchcraft. I know what she's doing." His eyes closed as he let his tongue run over Dean's finger again.

His breaths quickened at the sight of his finger forced back to Sam's mouth. The gentle touches of Sam's wet tongue contrasted sharply with the almost painful grip around his wrist. Then his finger disappeared into Sam's mouth and he felt himself sway closer. "Sam." He straightened, heat flooding his system each time Sam's tongue flicked out. "Let go of me, I can't think... I can't talk to you like this. It's important." 

Sam's eyes opened, he looked up at Dean from under his brows, " _This_ is important," he told him softly, speaking around Dean's finger, voice husky, deep and raw, a low moan sounding in his throat as his eyes slid closed once more. 

Sam circled his tongue around Dean's finger, wiping at the wound, teasing the flesh, before sucking hard, though keeping the single digit cradled softly against his tongue as he suckled.

"Dude, you and my finger need to get a room," Dean practically groaned. "Fuck." The memories of moments like this could not compete with the real thing. The surge of his blood answering the call of Sam's need. The desire to be joined in a way that was beyond the imagination of most. God no... God he had to keep his mind, he couldn't go down this road. Couldn't imagine Sam's mouth wrapped around ... no Goddamit, he wasn't doing this.

"Enough." Dean pulled his hand back, and it was shaking slightly. "I need a drink."

Sam blinked a few times before nodding. "I'll get it for you, what do you want?"

"Hard screw. Straight up." When their eyes met, his widened. He gave a rueful shrug. "It’s just a drink," he said, knowing Sam knew that.

Sam's lips curved slightly as he nodded, "Of course." He turned and started to walk away, "I could go for the _other_ myself however." He didn't look back to see Dean's reaction only continued toward the bar. 

It wasn't long before Sam was walking back, Dean's drink in one hand, a glass of champagne in the other. Reaching him, he handed Dean his drink then took a sip from the flute, eyes intent on Dean, watching him. "You said you had something important to tell me?"

Dean eyed the champagne a bit distrustfully, then he knocked back part of his drink. "Yeah. Two things. One... you're gonna promise to quit her blood for twenty four hours." 

Sam quirked a brow, "And two?"

"Two." He nodded, looking grim. "You know I kill witches. You might have to make a choice. Just giving you fair warning." Taking the glass, he downed the rest of the drink and tried not to think of which way Sam might choose if it came to some sort of showdown where he had a say in it.

Sam shook his head before taking a drink, "I need her." He drained the glass and looked at Dean, "I can't survive without her." _When I don't have you, I can't bear the pain. I have to have her here with me._ "You kill her, kill me. You know how."

"You're saying if it comes to that, you're not stopping me? You'd let me kill her?" The rest of what Sam said was ridiculous and Sam should know it.

"Meh, I might swat you away a little, just for show, but..." he tilted his head, "as long as you promise to kill me too," he shrugged a shoulder, "why should I care. I told you, I don't love her." Sam's eyes went to the glass in his hands, "But if you won't kill me too," his eyes lifted to meet Dean's, " _then_ we have a problem. I'm not going to let you kill the only thing that can ease my pain." 

"That problem is all yours, Sammy. Then you're going to have to choose between your drug and your pain." Handing the empty glass back to him, Dean walked away. He had no idea whether Sam would keep clean for twenty four hours. No idea. She held more power over him than Dean had thought. His little victory earlier tonight had made him think Sam was ready for separation, that he'd do this... keep away from her blood ... like he'd asked before. Now he wasn't even sure Sam wouldn’t kill him to protect his blood supply. A part of him rejected that, but another part of him ... the realist... knew that if enough of his emotions were wiped by her blood, he'd just be her powerful puppet zombie.

* * *  
Several hours later, Dean had caught a few glimpses of Sam, but hadn't approached him and hadn't seen him with Ruby. He knew that was only a matter of time and there was nothing he could do about it here, on the yacht. One thing he could do was protect himself from her magic... well some of it.

When he spotted her with the Captain and that woman from the press, he slipped down stairs and broke into her room with Sam one more time. He moved as fast as he could, knowing that if he was caught by her without Sam there, it could be over. He made a beeline for the closet, and went to the feminine suitcases. Rummaging through them quickly, he found what he though would be there. Her witchcraft 'kit.' A closed box of herbs, bones, incense, black candles and other shit he wasn't gonna take the time to examine. He also found a tiny hex bag, which he pocketed before leaving.

He didn't know who the hex bag was directed to, but had the feeling someone somewhere would be feeling better about something as he burned its contents in his bathroom, and flushed the ashes down the drain. Then, back on deck, he threw her supplies into the water. There wouldn't be any more spells to make him sick, at least not until they were docked. 

Feeling a certain sense of accomplishment, he went to the back of the yacht, where the dead girl had fallen off, and started to call her name again. He wanted to put her to rest, but he needed her help. So far his efforts at luring her hadn't worked too well, but luck was with him. She appeared. He tried to look at her as if she looked normal, not like she'd been cut up. "You look tired."

"So do you."

He chuckled. It was bad when a ghost thought you looked bad. He tried to engage her in conversation, but for a time she spoke about nonsensical things. Not unusual for a ghost. Frustrating as hell, but not unusual.

"Did you lose something," he asked, noting that her hand went to her ring finger, and she twisted a non-existent ring.

"Did you lose something," she echoed.

"No," he answered.

"Yes, you did. That man... the one whose music makes you cry."

Fuck, did everyone in the world know now? She was staring intently at him, and he was afraid to lie. "I lost... the music," he corrected. "Now let's find your ring."

"Maybe _it's_ still there. Maybe _he_ is. You find it."

"Nah. You can't live in the past. Neither of us can. Show me where your ring is," he said, a catch in his voice as he followed the ghost's path.


	31. Chapter 31

Her gaze narrowed as she saw him standing there, alone. Finally, he was alone, with out Sam's pathetic ass hanging over him like a love sick puppy. With a sigh, she flipped her chestnut tresses over her shoulder and walked toward him, a small smile, part evil, part seductive, tugged at her full lips as she walked. Leaning against the railing beside him, she licked her lips, her gaze on the water, though her attention was fully on the human beside her. 

"He's mine now, you know? You're not strong enough to get him back." She tipped her head to the side as she laced her fingers together where they hung over the railing. "He's got to be the easiest one I've ever had the pleasure of taking. So stupid, such a damned fool." Ruby turned her head to look at Dean, her golden gaze traveling over his frame, "I can see why he fancies himself in love with you though, if there were such a thing, I think you'd probably be easy to love," she tilted her head to the side, "or at least to fuck."

Fuck. He hated that she had been able to sneak up like that. He had to be more careful. "Yours?" He gave a mocking laugh. "I guess if you mean in the sense that you have to use spells to keep him addicted and tied to you, then ... maybe. But anyone who _needs_ to do that to keep a guy..." he gave a shrug, letting her know what he thought about her. "And you've got the rest all wrong, sweetheart. I'm hard to love." Yeah, he remembered the things he'd put Sam through, things that made him wonder how he could have loved him despite all that. "As for the fucking, that's private. I don't overshare with witches."

He pushed away from the railing and tilted his head back. "Did you _want_ something, or is this a social visit." 

Ruby quirked a brow, eyes narrowed and hate-filled. "Social. See, I need _you_ just as much as Sam needs me. Without you around, alive and kicking," she smirked, "I can't feed off his pain. That's what I do, you know? His pain... it's powerful stuff. And I like what I get from it." She tossed her hair. "Never spent a whole nine years on one before," she paused thoughtfully, an evil smirk pulling at her full lips, "but then, Sammy's different," she pulled her head back upright, "I guess you already knew that."

He stared at her long and hard, hate filling his eyes. As long as he was around, Sam would need Ruby to dull his senses so Sam couldn't feel him. Earlier, she'd tried to get Sam to kill him... wouldn't that fuck up her plans? He narrowed his gaze, no because then Sam would have his own guilt and new pains that needed dulling. But if _she_ did the killing, then maybe that would be drastic enough to break her spell over Sam. "Don't count on celebrating your tenth anniversary," he ground out. 

Turning, he looked around for the vampire, then looked back at her. "You're nothing but a parasite. Oh, you dress well, and you think you're real smooth, but you're a parasite, and you will _always_ be alone, because you've got to use ropes to tie someone to you, they won't come to you on their own... won't stay... won't keep you in their memories for a decade." He thought he saw a flash of something in her eyes, and added. "Tell me, how hard do you have to work to make him sleep with you... cause he's definitely not hooked on that."

Ruby tilted her head, "I might be a parasite, but you're the toxin that makes my existence possible. Without you and those like you, there wouldn't _be_ vampires like Sam." She gave a harsh laugh, "of course, he's the most pathetic fool I've _ever_ met, but..." she licked her lips, "All that power that's in there," she shook her head.

He was determined to remain passive. Cold. Refuse to react. Hide his feelings. Just take what she said, learn what she was up to, but give her nothing in return.

"I have a better story to tell you than how many times we fuck," she narrowed her eyes, "how about I tell you how I got him to agree to the first time he drank my blood, the first time I said the incantation over him that would slowly eat away at him. I made him tell me everything he felt." She gave a cold cruel smile, "You were fucking some bitch somewhere and I talked him through it, told him how you liked it more than you _ever_ liked touching him, made him tell me everything and then I twisted the knife until he was nearly insane." She smiled, "and then he was putty in my hands. Has been ever since." She leaned forward, whispered softly, "Oh, and I make sure he remembers that night, every time he drinks, I make sure he feels it again first." She drew away a small evil chuckle bubbling from her lips.

When she described the torture she put Sam through in such graphic detail, how she used him, the blood just went to Dean's temples and he saw red. One hand snaked out to grab a handful of her hair, twisting in it and dragging her head back, and he slapped her with the back of his hand, the momentum forcing her face to the side and ripping some hair out of her scalp. If she'd been human, blood would have streamed from her nostrils. "Feel this, bitch," he snarled, mentally cursing the pain in his knuckles.

Ruby hissed, before reaching up to grab his wrist in a crushing grip, twisting his arm and forcing him over against the railing as she pulled his arm behind his back, yanking upward to cause pain on the shoulder joint. She leaned in, her mouth near his ear, as golden orbs darted to see if they were being watched, "Killing you would be bad for business, but Sam needs to feed soon." She smiled against his ear, "better get those special vampire killing weapons out," she hissed before releasing him with a shove and stepping back. 

Her hand went to her scalp as she glared at him, "I'll let you keep that as a souvenir." she smirked, "Sam tugs out more than that in the midst of a good fuck." Her smirk widened before she turned and walked away, hand fluffing her locks as she went.

"Once every five years, from what I hear," he snarled, unsure but it felt good saying it, and he'd come out of the confrontation with his life... so that was something. Goddamnit, he hadn't meant to allow her to get under his skin like that, in more ways than one. Shit. And where the hell was Sam?

He stalked off in the opposite direction, trying to drown out her acid words about what she did to Sam every day, every feeding. Goddamn her... Goddamn her to hell.

* * *

After his little encounter with Ruby, Dean changed into jeans and prowled the yacht like an angry tiger. His mood had to be obvious because no one, not a single person tried to speak to him. He continued the damned search for the damned ring, wondering if the ghost had even told him the truth about everywhere she'd been on the boat. But the truth of it was, his mind wasn't on his search. He was stuck on the fact that Sam had disappeared, and that it was yet another round that went to Ruby.

Once almost everyone had gone to their rooms, he'd stayed on the deck alone, looking out at the cold sea. Each time Sam came into his life, things just got more complicated. But he couldn't walk away. Not before, not now. Ruby's hold on the vampire he'd once called _his_ would end. If he wasn't able to stop her now, he sure as hell would find a way once he had access to his equipment. Nothing would stop him. Nothing.

He didn't need to look at his watch to know that once again, it was only a couple of hours to dawn, and he hadn't gotten any sleep. Maybe it was time to try. He headed back to his room, and unlocked the door, one hand still shoved into his pocket. 

*

Sam hadn't drank, hadn't had a single sip since before he and Dean had talked up on deck, he had tried to fill the time, the hours with mingling, only to have the hunger, the raw need to feed, to have more, to numb feelings he hadn't felt in so long begin to get to him. That’s when he’d left, heading down the stairs. He hadn't gone to his room though, afraid he would run into Ruby and then he knew, _knew_ he would be unable to endure, to say no to her, to the blood. So he he’d hidden, in the shadows of the hall, back pressed tight to the walls, there he had stayed as long as he was able. 

When the need for blood, her magical blood had become too much, he’d gone back to his room, feeling like the failure he knew he was, he had gone to her, but she hadn't been there. No one was there. Instead of feeding, numbing this ache, the raw need, he had simply changed out of his suit, tossing the clothes around the bedroom and donning only jeans and a tight dark tee, not worrying with shoes or socks, he’d slipped back out. There was only one other place he knew to go, the only other being on the ship that might help him. Dean's room. 

Sam had waited here, in the room for hours. Waited, hungry and in pain. His teeth ached, his temples pounded with force, he was dizzy with sensations and feelings he hadn't felt in nearly nine years. 

Just as Dean entered and was about to hit the light, and incredible force grabbed him by the jacket and slammed his back into the wall. "What the--" He started to push back against the immovable object as his eyes started to adjust to the dark.

Moving with vampire speed, Sam grabbed him by the jacket, pulled him hard around and slammed him against the wall, his hand moving to wrap around Dean's throat as he leaned his head in, his face near Dean's. "I can't... can't do it..." he ground out, voice filled with his pain.

Danger was thick in the air. Dean hardly breathed. Hardly moved, fighting the human instinct to pull Sam's hand away from his wind pipe. Because it was dark, he wasn't sure, but it looked to him like Sam's eyes had gone black. His heart was pounding hard, adrenaline flowing though his system, not doing him any favors since Sam could hear it. He licked his lips. "Can't what?" He snaked his hand up, bringing his warm palm over the back of Sam's hand at his throat but not daring to try to make him let go.

Inky black eyes darted to the hand on his and Sam slowly pulled his head back, a low growl rumbling deep in his throat as his lip curled revealing elongated fangs. His eyes slid back to Dean's face once more as he tilted his head, a slow smile pulling at his lips. "Are you afraid? Ask the monster not to feed and then fear when this is what you get?" he huffed, "Typical of a human." He mimicked the words he'd heard Ruby say so often, her distaste for humans always apparent.

There was an audible intake of Dean's breath. He knew he was facing a predator right now. He could tell from his hard expression, the harsh look in his eyes. Right now all Sam saw was the vessel that held his meal. He had to find him in there somewhere, find Sam. 

"A little." He gave Sam the truth, let it sink in. Years ago, he might have lied, or not taken the situation seriously, or would have pushed the envelope trusting his luck... trusting Sam would find a way to stop himself, even if that that tactic had landed him in the hospital before.

He licked his lips. "You're hurting, I know that. It's withdrawal, Sam. We've got to clean out your system. You understand? You're doing good, you resisted."

Sam slowly shook his head. "Don't want to resist... can't... not anymore..." his hand shifted, the hold on Dean's neck easing slightly. Sam's thumb trailed softly across Dean's jugular, his gaze intent, transfixed by the sight. "Need it..." he drew in a breath, and leaned in running the tip of his tongue over the artery, a low grown/growl escaping. "Not the Dudley-do-Right I used to be."

"Dudley what... oh." Even as he swallowed, he felt the press of Sam's tongue, his pulse jumping wildly under it. Sam wasn't the only one tempted, but he was thinking consequences here. "Sam, if you take any now, you won't be able to stop. I can't stop you... you don't hear me anymore." Feeling that tongue press harder, he made a slight choking sound. "Hang on, just a little while. I'm gonna take care of this... trust me."

Sam sighed softly, breath ghosting over the skin on Dean's neck. "I've never killed an innocent before," he spoke as though Dean hadn't said a word. "I've watched Ruby do it a hundred times, watched as she fed, drained the life from them as they struggled and begged her to stop," he pressed the flat of his tongue against Dean's neck and groaned, "And all the while I just stood there. What does that make me?" he gave a soft harsh laugh against Dean's throat, "I could do that now. I'm already a killer, just like those vampires you destroy. I could take from you now and end my suffering." Sam ran his tongue over the area softl., "Don't worry," he whispered, "I'll make it good for you." Sam's fangs ran across sensitive skin slowly.

"No, you can't have..." The protest broke out of him at the thought that Sam had watched innocent people get killed. They'd saved so many together, so many. Then razor sharp teeth were scraping his skin, and he knew what came next. His fucking traitor of a body wanting it, reacting, making him hard, making him cling to Sam. He just stopped himself from pressing his throat harder against Sam's fangs in a nonverbal request.

He felt Sam's body tense. Like he was about to do it.

"What then, Sam? Drain me? Kill me? That won't end anything. Just start a new cycle of hell. Think about it, push past the pain and think... what did you feel when I was in the hospital with IV's attached? Think... what about when I was cold and almost dead... did that make your craving go away? Will it now?" He pressed his body close, trying to distract Sam, rubbing up against him, giving him other sensations that could compete with his blood lust. "Give me ten minutes. Let me help you another way. Ten minutes." 

Sam growled low, before he released Dean with a shove, taking a stumble step backward away from him. He remembered Dean in the hospital, he remembered Dean laying lifeless... memories he hadn't been able to pull up in so long. Sam stared intently at him through tear wet, narrowed eyes. "I'll go... " he stumbled toward the door, hand over his mouth, "I'm sorry."

"Go where?" Dean followed him. "To Ruby? The hell you will, get on that bed Sam, right now. Blocking his way, he started walking him backwards toward the bed. There was no way he could get him there if Sam refused, but he was trying not to give him a choice. "Ten minutes Sam, you can last ten... I'll help you," he promised, pushing him down onto the narrow bed. 

Quickly, he phoned the purser. "I need it now, fast. Yeah, ghost," he agreed, and hung up the phone. Scooting onto the bed, next to Sam, pushing him slightly so he could spoon behind him, he put his arm around him, palm on Sam's chest and stroked up and down. "Gonna be alright, I promise you... gonna be alright," he whispered against his ear, rocking him slightly, soothing him, whispering. "I'll make the pain go away. It's not real Sam. She told me how she does it... not all the pain is real. Shshsh..."

Sam swallowed hard, frowning, brows furrowed, "She... she told you?" he shook his head, "She only reminds me why I need her. Makes me forget the fantasy, that it can ever be better." He closed his eyes and licked his lips. "Don't hate her, she's doing me a favor. I only wish it hadn't made me forget so much," he spoke softly.

"It's not a favor, it's a lie." He kept stroking. "You never hurt this much when you were with me. You never hurt this much even when we weren't together, Sam. No fucking way you hurt every minute." It made him angry to think she'd tricked him so completely. He held Sam tight for a moment, then continued to stroke and pet him. "She reminds you of the pain every day, makes it seem like it was there all the time. She tells you I'm with someone else all the time. Hell, when do I _ever_ have that much time, Sam?" 

He snorted at the thought of having the luxury of getting that much sex. Yeah, he thought about it a lot. And yeah, he got some here and there, probably more than some others. But his work kept him busy and on the move. "My best girlfriend is still my right hand. Look what you've been missing," he teased.

Sam gave a harsh laugh, before his neck arched and he licked his lips, "Aches..." he curled his lips, bared his fangs, a hiss leaving him, "blood... I don't... no one, nothing, but Ruby. So thirsty..." he bit his lip until it bled and licked at his own blood that smeared across his lip.

"That's right," Dean held him just a little tighter. "You hurt because she keeps you thirsty. You can't live on just her. You should be out hunting, you need to feed right... keep strong. Sammy, you know this," he said, moving his hand up to his mouth and using his thumb to wipe the remaining blood. "Don't you see that's _not_ a favor. That it makes you her slave? Sam..."

There was a knock on the door and Dean pressed a kiss into Sam's cheek. "Just a few more seconds, baby. Hang on." 

Sam's eyes followed Dean as he walked to the door, eyes intent, nearly deadly. His body tense. If Dean walked out that door, Sam would have been on him in the blink of an eye. Instinct for survival had kicked in and Sam's body knew what he needed, it no longer would listen to his heart that what he needed happened to be inside of the being he loved more than anything.

Crossing the room, Dean took the ice chest from the purser and practically closed the door in his face. Setting it up on the table, he started to get a cup, then decided against it. Pulling a large heavy plastic bag filled with blood. The kitchen had a large stock of beef, and they drained blood off their ground beef all the time. He'd said he needed blood for a ritual, and here it was. Maybe not enough to feed a vampire for long, but he hoped enough to stave off the sharp edge of hunger. 

When Dean pulled out the bag of blood, Sam's hunger gripped him harder, eyes narrowing on the bag, lip curling a low growl sounding deep in his throat. 

"Open you mouth." Dean cut the corner of the bag and wasn't surprised when Sam immediately aligned it to his mouth and started sucking.   
Ready for it, like a baby bird waiting for it's mother to give it a worm, Sam waited for the moment when he could begin sucking the blood from the bag. One hand rose to hold onto the bag as Sam's eyes fluttered closed, a low groan escaping as he drank deep. It wasn't like human blood, not even like vampire blood, but it was blood and in the back of his mind, he remembered the taste of animal blood, remembered hunting with a brother he hardly knew the name of anymore. And then in his mind, he was back there, in the lush greenery of his home, running and laughing, wild and free with his brother, chasing the deer and catching them as they jumped, sinking their fangs in and tumbling on the ground with them.

"That's it, there's more when you finish this," Dean said, still holding the bag, and pushing Sam's hair off his forehead with the other, sure that Sam was mentally some place now where he couldn't even hear him. 

The memory shifted slightly, he was still hunting, but there was a wholeness, a feeling of happiness lodged in his heart he had nearly forgotten. Knowledge that his love, his human, was at home waiting for him to return from the hunt with his brother... Em... Emmett. Sam smiled softly around the bag.

"Hmm?" Dean didn't understand what Sam said, but he understood the smile. "Drink," he answered, smiling down at glazed eyes. Glazed... but alive, not dull like they'd been so often lately. He watched as the blood emptied and the bag collapsed into itself as its contents were vacuumed out. Leaving the bag in Sam's hand as the vampire kept trying to suck out the last remnants, he went to get a second bag. 

Too soon the blood was gone, but Sam wanted, needed more, he kept trying to get the last drops out, there was still some.... if he just... Black eyes darted to the new bag that was brought to him and Sam released the old one, immediately reaching for the new bag and sinking his fangs into it. He drank deeply, sighing softly in contentment. " 'O 'ood" he spoke around the bag, his eyes on Dean, before they fluttered closed once more. 

"Good... good," Dean echoed, watching Sam drain the second bag. 

Slowly Sam moved a hand from the bag, reaching out, for Dean, his eyes still closed.

Taking Sam's hand, Dean sat down again, this time putting his other arm around Sam, holding him the same way Sam usually held him. He saw that Sam had started to slow down, which was a good sign. The way he'd gulped the first bag down he'd wondered if there would be enough. "Ok, my voice hasn't really improved. And... I'm _still_ not a fan of the song, but here goes nothing." Pulling a rueful smile, Dean started to sing low and slightly off key.

 _There used to be a graying tower alone on the sea.  
You became the light on the dark side of me.  
Love remained a drug that's the high and not the pill.  
But did you know,  
That when it snows,  
My eyes become large and  
The light that you shine can be seen._

Sam's eyes opened slowly, looking up at Dean as he continued to drink, brow furrowed in confusion. Then Sam remembered the song, remembered when he had sung it to Dean. Their first time... in the saferoom... Slowly the bag slid from Sam's mouth as he dislodged his fangs, licked his lips, listening to Dean, tears pricking his eyes before he sang back. 

_You remain,  
My power, my pleasure, my pain, baby  
To me you’re like a growing addiction that I cant deny.. yeah.  
Wont you tell me is that healthy, baby?  
But did you know,  
That when it snows,  
My eyes become large and the light that you shine can be seen._

Sam smiled sadly up at him and licked his lips. "I remember," he said softly, nodding. 

"It's a good thing you're a pianist. I don't know that you'd have a career as a singer." Dean chuckled, hugging him closer for a second. "What do you think... will that hold you for a while?"

Sam slowly looked down at the bag in his hands and the small amount of blood remaining in it. Making a face, he looked back up at Dean. "It's like eating tofu and it's cold...ish, but it works. Can't believe I use to live off this stuff everyday." He licked his lips, "I think I need to finish it, it's not very... satisfying." He frowned, "now I know why Emmett," he smiled as he said the name, looking off for a second, proud that he remembered his brother's name again, remembered the fun they had, he looked back at Dean, "and I used to hunt so many deer at a time." He moved the bag back up, drinking down more of the blood, his gaze remaining on Dean.

"Yeah, I've heard deer blood's a lot better than dead cow blood," Dean nodded seriously. "You probably need something with more body, something that kicks and runs... doesn't just come from the butcher." _Or stand there and offer you rat poison._ "You know, gives you a run for your money. I thought Emmett liked 'bears.'" He made a face.

Sam chuckled around the bag, dimples showing as he shook his head, " 'eer. Ee unted eer." Sam told him around the bag. Once it was empty, Sam slowly lowered the plastic bag and licked his lips. "Thank you," he glanced down at the bag, "for that." He smiled softly, "yeah, live kill would be nice." 

"Twenty four more hours, and then you can go for it. Unless you want to swim." He knew Sam could do that, get to shore. "Might not be a bad idea," he nodded. Anything to get him away from Ruby's influence. "We could call your dad, he can meet you. I think you should do it, Sam."

Sam shook his head, "I haven't spoken to my family in nine years, Dean." he sighed, "Besides, I won't leave you alone if she..." he licked his lips, "she gets angry." he frowned. A small smile pulled at his lips, "Wonder what shark blood would taste like?"

"Now you're just trying to make me throw up. Sushi... blech." Dean shuddered and pulled his arm away, putting his feet on the ground and standing up, then turning to him. "I'll call your dad for you. It'll be alright. And _you_ don't have to worry about _me._ " 

Sam's gaze fell as he nodded, "Yeah, I kinda lost that right, huh?" he slowly moved, sitting up. "I - I can call my family, you don't need to worry about me, either." He offered a slight stiff smile before swinging his legs over the side of the bed. "I should go."

"No, stay here. Rest... and don't go telling me vampire's don't, you've been starving yourself." He intentionally didn't address the rest of what Sam said. "Or, if you can put aside your... you know, flowery and sensitive master pianist side," he smirked, "then you can help me find an engagement ring."

Sam quirked a brow at him as he turned back, looking over his shoulder, before scooting sideways on the bed to look at him better. Sam looked at Dean for a long moment before a slow sadness crept over his features. "Oh. I see," he muttered softly, hanging his head, "Uh, yeah, sure. I can..." he frowned, brows furrowed, as pain flared in his chest, "I can help you do that, I guess."

"Okay, good." Keeping Sam busy would be a good way of getting him away from Ruby for a while longer. "So, diamond ring, kind of small, not too flashy and, ah..." He rubbed his forehead, "it's not in your room or..." and he rattled off all the places he'd searched real well, though there were plenty of places that he hadn't yet scoured closely. We can check the main deck first, at least no one will be there to look at us funny when we're on all fours... what?" He caught the strange expression passing over Sam's face and stopped.

Sam listened to Dean start to tell him places he'd looked for his engagement ring and Sam couldn't help but look at him oddly. In his room? The deck? All fours? What the hell was he talking about? Sam shook his head, frowning. "I - You," he clamped his mouth closed and looked at Dean for a long moment. "Is this _your_ engagement ring we're talking about? What, you had one and lost it?" he shook his head, "I don't follow. I thought you wanted me to help you pick one out. I, " Sam sighed, "maybe you'd better start over." He moved to lay back on the bed, "I think I might need to lay down for this."

"Myyy?... pick out... what?! Idiot," he tossed a jacket at Sam's face, shaking his head. "See now, this is why _I_ always did a better job of guessing what someone's next move would be, because I paid attention to their last one and what they _said_. Didn't I just get done telling you I didn't have time for that stuff? As if I turned into the marrying kind," he kept muttering under his breath as he paced away, a little incensed by Sam's inattentiveness. 

Stopping, he turned to Sam. "We've got a ghost on board. She's lost her ring somewhere. We gotta find it. You ahhh... following that?"

Sam nodded, a small grin on his face, "I was listening, before... I got distracted." He grinned a bit wider, cleared his throat and made a serious face. "Go on, a ghost, lost her ring, uh-huh... And?"

Dean cocked his head at the look Sam shot him. "You flirting with me?" He chuckled, and moved on real fast. "We need it so that we can put her to rest and she'll stop scaring passengers. She's pretty badly cut up and people trying to get away from her are getting hurt. But if you see her, don't let her know how bad she looks." He was doing his damnedest to be all business and not try to notice the way Sam flashed his teeth in a smile, or to imagine him blushing, though that was impossible. 

Sam crossed his arms over his chest as he lay listening, his eyes intently following every move Dean made. "Okay," Sam nodded, "I got it, I do still remember what you taught me..." he frowned, looking away for a second, "now. Maybe I'm flirting with you... why? Is it working?” he grinned before sitting up and pulling to his feet, "Okay, let's get to finding this ring of yours, er, hers." 

Shaking his head, Dean grabbed his jacket and shrugged it back on as Sam walked out into the silent hall. He wanted to ask why it was that Ruby wasn't around, why hadn't she interrupted last night as well. How come she hadn't shortened his leash now. His gaze met Sam's but he kept quiet.

Sam quirked a brow and smirked, "Didn't realize you were so interested," he shrugged a shoulder as they started walking, "Ruby meditates or communes with demons or some such garbage, a lot. It's where she disappears off to so much." He looked back at Dean, "if you really want, I could probably set you up on a date with her..." he started laughing the minute Dean looked over at him.

"Not funny. Not even a little." He bumped Sam with his shoulder. It was really weird, falling into old patterns. Reading each others' minds, teasing. He turned back to Sam, "I just have this thing about... chanters... they creep me out. Maybe if you put a muzzle on her, I'll think about it." He started to take the stairs two at a time.

Sam huffed and shook his head, "She's not your type!" he called after him, before dashing up the stairs. 

Once they reached the deck, Sam looked to the left and right, "You want one side, I'll take the other?" he started for the right side of the ship. "Does this ghost appear very often? You talked to her? She say anything much?" Sam asked as he knelt near a lounge chair and started looking around on the deck.

"Her name is Jessamine. Sometimes she talks nonsense, other times it’s as clear as a bell. You know, it would be _really_ useful if vampires came with sonar. I'll be on the other side," he said, starting to walk away.

Sam frowned and looked up at Dean's retreating back, "Sonar?"" he shook his head and looked back down. 

"Yeah... you know, like a radar... to detect things like rings," he tossed over his shoulder, laughing. 

Sam shook his head as he looked up again. Pulling back onto his knees, he looked around, licked his lips. "Jessamine," he waited, "Jessamine, come out, it's okay, we just want to talk to you." He looked over at Dean and sighed.

"Usually works better if you shout and insult-- oh," Dean slowly sank into a lounge chair, his eyes glued to the ghostly figure approaching Sam. Well that was quick. 

"You're the one who stole the music... _lost_ the music," she corrected, standing over Sam and looking down at him.

Sam smiled sadly up at her and nodded, "Yeah, I did." He tilted his head to the side, "what about you? What did you lose? Maybe, maybe I can help you find it again."

She twisted the nonexistent ring again. "I don't need it. He didn't mean it when he gave it to me, anyway." Looking out at the water, she let her shoulder's droop before turning back. "What are you looking for. Maybe I can help you find it," she mimicked in exactly Sam's tone.

Dean crossed his arms and watched. At least she was making sense.

Sam's gaze went to her hands, watched as she played with her bare ring finger. He looked back up at her, opened his mouth to ask her about it, when she went on, asking him his own questions back. Sam's brows furrowed before he licked his lips, "I - I once had something very precious and fragile, and I let it slip through my fingers," he nodded at her hands, "like your ring slipped off yours." His gaze met hers again as he shook his head, "I can't get back what I lost. It's gone forever." He tore his gaze away from hers, looking down as he rubbed his palms on his thighs, and cleared his throat, fighting back emotions.

Dean looked down at the exact same moment. The hell... this wasn't supposed to be about them.

Sam looked back up at her, offering a sad smile, "What about you? How do you know he didn't mean it when he gave you the ring?"

"He said... he said I was 'his girl' the 'only one for him,'" Jess answered, her voice wistful as she thought back on a happy time. "He was going to take me to Paris. We were going to leave 'Jess and Peter forever' somewhere, you know, carve it on a tree, or on a bench in the most romantic city in the world. I guess it's a good thing we didn't. Are you crying again?"

Sam tore his gaze from hers, looking down before he looked back up. He shook his head, "No, I'm not crying, not... not this time." He gave a harsh half laugh, "try me again later." he blushed softly as he pressed his lips together. "So, what happened, with you and Peter?" he asked softly. 

"Peter?" She blinked, then frowned, twisting her finger again. "He married me. Right here. It was beautiful, perfect. But just on the outside, you know? We'd been Mr. and Mrs. less than a few hours and he was... with someone else." Her eyes flooded with tears, which mixed with blood as they streamed down her face but never hit the ground as they fell. "I saw them. Do you think it's murder if I saw them and fell off?"

Sam listed to her, offering her a small sympathetic smile as she spoke before hanging his head at the end of her words. "I'm sorry," he whispered softly. Slowly looking back up at her, his lips pressed together, he frowned thoughtfully. "Maybe, maybe he didn't want to do what he did, Jessamine. Maybe he was just as sorry as you are. You know sometimes things happen... the people, hearts involved, they don't think about what their actions do to someone else. They think that their reasons are right and..." he sighed and looked down again, shook his head, "No, I don't think we can count that as murder... unless it's murder of the heart." He smiled sadly up at her, "You cry a lot too, huh?"

She nodded. "He doesn't even know what happened. He doesn't know I saw him. I took it off," she looked at her finger. "I was going to give it back but... they moved suddenly and I got scared and fell back." 

"Great," Dean got up. "There goes the ring search." Dammit, what else could she have left behind?

Sam had opened his mouth to say more to her, only to clamp it closed again as Dean stood and spoke, his attention going to Dean for a moment before he looked back at Jessamine, "You don't want the ring back do you?" he shook his head, answering his own question. "What do you want, Jessamine? What will make it better for you? Make you not cry anymore?" he asked her softly.

"I want him to pay." The tears came faster. "No. I want him to take it back. I want him to take all of it back."

Dean turned away from both of them and walked to the railing, leaning over it. Not wanting to hear this, but unable to walk away.

Sam nodded, blinking back his own tears, "I'm sure he did pay, in his own way." He hung his head for a moment. Looking back at her he sighed, "I can't make him take it back, Jessamine. If I could turn back time... HA!" his own eyes were full of tears as he looked heavenward, before his gaze fell on her again, "I know that if he could, if it were within his power," he spoke roughly through gritted teeth, "he would take back every last action that ever hurt you. He would give something as special as you the moon and the stars, because that’s what you deserve!" he sniffled, shaking his head as a tear rolled down his cheek, "but I can't do that, Jessamine. I don't have the power... I wish to God I did."

She looked over at the ‘stiff as board’ back that Dean offered, and looked back at Sam. "You shouldn't cry. You're not dead, and neither is he." Head hanging down, she started to walk away, flickering.

Sam hung his head. He stayed sitting there on his knees for a long moment as he fought to control his emotions, to push back feelings that he knew Dean wouldn't want to talk about. He wouldn't want to see him crying. Wiping his eyes, Sam pulled to his feet. Taking a breath, he walked up to Dean, leaning on the railing beside him, looking out at the wate., "So, where do we go from here?" he asked and looked over at Dean.

Having some troubles controlling his own emotions, Dean stared ahead and just shook his head. "I don't know. I really don't know."

Sam licked his lips, "I'm sorry I couldn't get more information."

"Nah, you did fine." As in he'd gotten _too much_ information. He looked up, "I thought I'd nick name you the 'ghost whisperer,' but its not funny anymore."

Sam looked back at the water. "Maybe we need to find out why her husband cheated on her. Maybe if she knew why..." he hung his head, "I dunno." He sighed and reached up, running a hand down his face. Huffing, Sam glanced over at Dean and quirked a brow, "I cry that much? That the dead even know about it?"

"You're loud, that's how they know," he gave Sam an 'are so’ face, then he got serious again, this time shaking his head. "What difference does it make 'why' he did it. He did it, she died. Simple as that. There's no ... no good reason he cheated on her on her wedding day."

Sam had been about to argue that he was _not_ a loud crier, not since... that time in his room. Only to frown as he hung his head, not wanting to think about that valentines ever again. Sometimes not remembering was nice. 

Dean's words caught his attention and he looked back at him. "Normally," Sam nodded, "I would agree with you." His jaw clenched, muscle twitching as he looked out at the water, "but this time, I can't." He turned and started walking away.

"Where you going?" Dean followed after him. "Sam?"

"Research, Dean. It's this thing hunters do, maybe you've heard of it," he shot back over his shoulder.

Releasing his breath, Dean threw him a dirty look. Like he didn't have a reason to worry. "Catch," he threw him the key to the room, and followed along at a nice human pace, muttering about vampire show offs.

Sam had left the door open and by the time Dean walked in, he saw Sam at the desk, having found his laptop and gotten it all set up. "Go ahead and rifle through my stuff... guess I did yours," he said, half laughing half huffing about it. He looked over Sam's shoulder, saw that he was googling Jessamine and the yacht, then dove onto his bed. It was fucking late.

Laying on his stomach, he watched Sam work. Various expressions chased over Sam’s face. Hope, frustration... determination. He ran his hand over his forehead and through his hair, flooding Dean's mind with so many memories. That gesture was ingrained in Dean’s mind. His eyes started to close, even though he tried to fight his sleep. "It's like you'd never left," he mumbled, sliding easily into sleep.

Sam was determined to find something for Jessamine, some sliver of hope, something. He worked on the laptop, googling from all angles, and his hope quickly slid into frustration. Dammit. At Dean's words, Sam froze, back ridged, even his breathing had stopped. He sat there a few moments like that before he licked his lips, his brow furrowing with a frown before he slowly turned his head to look at Dean, finding him fast asleep. Sam smiled softly, "If only it could be like that," he answered softly, before turning back to the computer and starting to work again. 

Sam worked all night, going from site after site names, googling until he thought he wouldn't have anything left to google. He paced some, as he thought over the sparce information he had found, nothing near enough to tell them much of anything. But, Peter never did remarry, that he had found out. 

He went back to the computer after an hour of so of pacing which got him nowhere fast, continued to cross reference ideas, look up Jessamie's family, Peter's family, _after_ that is, he had went through every wedding that had happened on this yacht until he had found theirs and then knew their last names. 

The sun was coming up in the horizon as Sam stood at the small window in Dean's room, his head hanging, Hand braced against the wall, defeat evident in his posture. He had been so sure he would find _something_.

Jessamine flickered into the room and went and sat next to Dean, putting one hand on his back. "Why is there so much sadness in this room?"

"Huh?" Sam turned to see Jessamine there seated next to Dean, his gaze traveled over her arm to the hand on his back before he tore his gaze away and started to pace, lips pressed together, head bowed thoughtfully. "Um, I've been looking into what happened here," he looked up at her as he stopped pacing, his eyes on her face, "what happened with Peter." He shook his head, "Jessamine, I.. I was so sure I would find something that would make this better for you. I wanted to help you."

"I don't need help," she pulled her knees up onto the bed and rocked a bit. "It's too late to help me." She looked at Dean and back at Sam. "Why is he so... angry?"

Sam frowned as he looked from her to Dean and back. "Well, I would say that he's always angry, but," he shook his head, "this time it's my fault. I," he hung his head, "I walked out once a long time ago, thought I was doing the right thing then." He huffed and shook his head before looking up at her. "I wanted to let him grow up, but... I know now that I should never have left." He sighed, "And then, I met someone who... promised to take away my pain. The pain of being without him," he smiled sadly, "She did that... and took from me my memories and the knowledge that it was time to go back." He ran a hand through his hair, glancing at the laptop, "I should have known better."   
Rounding the bed Sam knelt in front of her so that they were eye level, "You _do_ need help, Jessamine, you can't be here. You need to go home. You need to get past this so that you can move on and be happy again." He licked his lips, "I couldn't find anything on Peter or why he... why he would hurt you. But, there are a lot of reasons why people do stupid things. I think you should forgive him and let go," he shook his head, "Not for him, for you." He tilted his head to the side as he looked at her, "he never remarried. I did find that, I can show you that." He glanced toward the laptop, before his eyes went back to her face. "It's not right that you would spend eternity in pain. This, what you’re holding onto, it's hurting you as much as what he did is." Sam reached out and cupped her bloody face, "Let it go, forgive him, forgive yourself. You were perfect. You still are." He smiled sadly, "it's time to be happy now... forever."

"Without him?" she asked, her voice husky with emotion. "How is there a forever without him. That wasn't what we planned." Her gaze fell, and she saw her blood on Sam's hands. "It hurt, oh God it hurt... it hurt... it hurt." Her voice started to rise as she got worked up at the memory.

Sam quickly gripped her shoulders. "It's over! It doesn't have to hurt anymore!" he told her, his voice having grown louder with hers. His gaze intent on her face, Sam licked his lips, "I know it hurt to be cut, I know that it was horrific and I know that the pain of what he did was nearly worse than anything you could have felt happen to your body. I - know - that -, God I know that. But, it's over." He lowered his voice. "If you go home, maybe, just maybe he's there waiting for you. Maybe that is your eternity. Then _he_ can explain, _he_ can be the one to comfort you. But, you have to believe in something, Jessamine. You can't mean to want to stay here where it hurts, forever. Do you? Do you want to hurt forever? Or are you willing to take a chance?"

"I'm afraid." She looked at Dean, still asleep. Then back at Sam. "You think it's better, if I leave... you really think that?" He seemed honest. The other one hid his feelings, but this one didn't. He wasn't good at it. She nodded. "Will you walk me?" 

Sam smiled a very slight sad smile as he nodded to her and pulled up to his full height, offering her his hand.

She stood up and took Sam's hand, flickering more violently with each step she took toward the door.

Waking with a start, Dean saw Sam at the door. "Sam, no!" he shouted, jacknifing up, only to see the woman's figure dissipate and get sucked into a gold light. His eyes swung back to Sam's, locked, and he took a breath.   
Sam tilted his head to the side and small smile on his face, "I was just... walking her home."

"Why are you crying?" he asked. Sam wasn't, but that look... "Jess left. She went home? For good?" He slipped off the bed, "that's good Sam. Really good," he gave the vampire a hug. "She had to go. You did it, you helped her." He smiled, and pulled away. "Better be careful who you cry around. You know, the dead _do_ tell tales."

Sam was still standing ridged from Dean's hug when he made the remark about his crying and Sam quirked a brow, but didn't say anything. He hung his head, "Is it wrong that I miss her?" he asked as he looked up, frowning, brows furrowed. He ran a hand through his hair as he stood there looking at Dean, "I should get you coffee... breakfast."

It was Dean's turn to stiffen. "No... please don't." Dry scrubbing his face with one hand, he went and sat on the bed. Old wounds never healed, now he knew what that meant. When he looked up and met Sam's eyes again, he knew Sam felt the same wounds. Best to sweep them under the rug. Forget about them. Push them down so far it only felt like a distant dream. 

Sam gave a small nod as he looked around the room from where he stood by the door, unsure of what to do with himself anymore. He huffed softly, shaking his head as he moved to the desk chair. "She wanted to know why there was so much sadness in here," he told Dean as he took a seat, ran a hand through his hair and shrugged a shoulder, "so I told her."

"She asked hard questions," he nodded, "I'm sorry I... I shouldn't have..." he waved his hand. "I'll get coffee upstairs. What about you, think you want a little," he nodded toward the ice chest. "It'll help you say 'no' when she offers." 

A muscle in Sam's jaw flexed. "Ruby only offers once," he looked at Dean intently, "And if it's been too long," he glanced at the window, the morning sun shining in, "Yeah..." he muttered, then looked back at Dean, "she doesn't offer... she tells me what a freak I am, how I don't fit in anywhere. That I'm not even a real vampire. She then asks me how I could ever have thought that someone could love me," she laughs then, and reminds me about the day that I felt you..." he looked away, jaw clenched, "tells me how much you liked that more than..." he ran a hand through his hair before pulling to his feet. 

"She says that there's no way you would want a vampire now, that I was a childhood fantasy and that I was a fool to leave because grown men don't love monsters. This usually goes on for a while and once I'm broken, she asks me who loves me." 

Sam stood at the window now, looking out. "I know what my answer is suppose to be. 'You do, Ruby'. Who is the only one that would put up with a freak? 'You are, Ruby'. Now drink from me, Sammy." He mimicked the way it would go and sighed as he hung his head. "That's how it will go later when I go back, it's the way it went the day I snuck off and called Alice, the day she found Abbey's picture that Alice had gotten from you. The day that Carlisle called," he shrugged. "How it always goes if I don't ask for it or take it on the first offering." 

Dean crossed the room and turned Sam around, shoving him into the wall and pressing the palm of his hand against his chest. "Then stop being her little bitch boy. Who cares what she thinks about who can or can't love you? God Sam, all those people... all those people love you, not her. And it bugs her, so she dumps this shit on you, and then you take it, and it becomes a vicious circle." His nostrils flared as he tried to control his temper. "Next time she says crap to you, you tell her 'get out. It's over.' _You_ shouldn't have any trouble with that Sam, say it... practice it on me if you need to, Goddamit, but be ready to tell her."

Sam didn't say anything, didn't move, didn't even breathe as he looked at Dean. He didn't know who was worse in that moment with hurtful words, Dean or Ruby. Raising his hand, Sam knocked Dean's away, but only continued to stare at him for a long moment. "I never told you it was over and never said to get out. I know I hurt you, I know I was stupid and I know that I fucked up, but you don't have to keep throwing it in my face." His eyes narrowed, "At least some people have something to offer me when they rip my heart out. Where's _your_ magic blood, huh Dean?"

"I'm saving it, for after your concert. That's when you need it most," he snapped right back. "Forget you and me. I'm Ruby, you tell me it's over. You tell me to get out," he insisted. His eyes sparked with his temper at the lack of response. "He... Dean doesn't love you. You're a monster. You don't have a family... they'll reject you..." he shook Sam. "What are you going to tell her, me? What Sam?" Dammit. "He's having sex with someone. He loves her like he never loved you. Shes' hot and tight, and he's into her... fucking her. He doesn't remember you," he shook Sam again. "WHAT are you going to tell Ruby?!"

Sam shoved Dean hard away from him, a snarl tearing from his lips, "Fuck you! It's over! Get out! Get out! Get out!" he raised his hands, pressed them against his ears, teeth clenched as tears pooled in his eyes, some spilling over.

"Yes, that's right, that's right," Dean shouted back. But he was somewhere else. He was at that motel in the middle of nowhere and it was fucking 8:28 all over again. His own eyes burned, stung. He pulled his gaze away, tears streaming down his cheeks. "Just like that Sam, you tell her like that," he said, choking over the words. "And you mean it." Forcing himself, he looked into Sam's crying eyes and felt his gut rip away. _Take it back. Take it all back._

Taking a deep breath, Dean wiped a hand over his eyes, and kept it cupped over his mouth as he struggled against his emotions. "Just like that," he said a lot softer. "We're half way there."

Sam fought to get his emotions in check. It was something he had vowed to himself so long ago, after he had been without Dean for months... he had vowed never to say those words, that he was leaving or for Dean to leave ever again, not in all eternity, and yet here he had just said them. Yeah, it was suppose to be to Ruby, but it wasn't her standing there, it wasn't her eyes he was looking into when he said it, it had been Dean's, and it hurt all over again. 

His hands had slowly slipped down from his ears, to hang at his sides, shoulders slumped in his heartbreak. Sniffling Sam shook his head, "I don't want to practice this anymore. Not ever."

Dean numbly nodded, partly in shock. "Me neither." He threw his arms around Sam, brushing his closed mouth over Sam’s, cursing, and then pressing his face into the crook of his neck. He held on, just held on, shaking slightly as he fought his own demons... they still held power over him, after all these years. 

Sam's eyes widened slightly as Dean threw his arms around him. Memories of his telling him he didn't want him out on the balcony playing over in his head. ... but then, there had been the kiss... Sam slowly wrapped his arms around Dean and held on, held him like he might vanish if he didn't hold on tight enough, held him and tried to put love into that simple gesture, held him and closed his eyes, fighting back emotions. It was in that moment, Sam was glad he didn't _have to_ breathe, because with the emotions choking him, he wasn't so sure he'd be able to. 

Sam raised one hand to Dean's hair and slowly starting to run his fingers absently through the soft short strands.

A soft murmur broke out of Dean. How long had it been since someone played with his hair, petted him like Sam used to ... like this. How long since he'd breathed in the scent of chocolate chip cookies? Hell, he'd avoided them for years... years. How often had he lied, said he hated them? Well maybe he'd hated them for a while, but never completely.

He looked up and saw Sam's eyes, not flat, not dull, but shining with emotions... with pain... with regret. Dean swallowed over the large lump in his throat, and gripped Sam tighter, fingers digging into his shoulders. "I forgive you... Sam," he said so low, it hardly carried.

Sam drew in a deep shaky breath, before it all came out in a rush. He bit his lip, squeezed his eyes closed as tears began to fall. His shoulders shook with his sobs, but no sound escaped as he pressed his lips together hard. He turned his head away from Dean so that he wouldn't see him crying as he held him tighter. 

After a few moments, Sam drew in another breath, nodding. "Th - thank you." he whimpered, turned his head and pressed his lips to Dean's as he wept, tears rolling down his cheeks and into the kiss, "So sorry..." Sam pulled his mouth away, lowering his head, burying his face against Dean's neck.

"I know... I know," Dean answered, running his calloused palm up the side of Sam's neck, holding him. "Time to let it go, both of us." He rubbed his mouth against Sam's temple and over his silky hair, just for a moment allowing himself to imagine the future they might have had. It would have been good. Damned good. That made him hold Sam just a little tighter, made him want to cry just a little harder. "You know, we'd have done a lot better if I'd just... won you at cards. I have good luck at cards."

Sam gave a tearful-chuckle, his forehead against Dean's shoulder as he sniffled, clinging to him.


	32. Chapter 32

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [](http://tinypic.com)  
>  Our thanks to Adonisleech who allowed us to use her wonderful manip.

At first there was a little bit of awkwardness between them, neither one knowing how to behave after the moment neither one ever imagined would ever come to pass. But after Dean's third cup of coffee out on the deck, everything normalized again. They talked about Sam's success with Jessamine and as Dean licked the syrup off his fingers, he felt Sam's stare. One look in his eyes, and there was the old familiar stirring of his blood. He quickly wiped his fingers and stopped looking into Sam's eyes, but the feeling lingered for hours.

When it was close to evening, Sam decided he'd go and get changed. Dean offered to come with him but Sam thought it would just piss Ruby off more and there would be a scene. In the 'interests of scene avoidance,' Dean agreed to wait in his room but said he wasn’t going to wait more than fifteen minutes, and he forced Sam to drink some blood before he left.

While he was gone, Dean paced, then took his cell and called someone he hadn't spoken to in nine and a half years. "Guess who? Damn..." Course he shouldn't be disappointed that Alice had guessed correctly. After a rapid-fire discussion, he was smiling as he put the phone down. 

Sam had done it, he had said exactly what he’d practiced with Dean, he’d told Ruby it was over and to get the hell out. Of course, it had gone over like a lead balloon. She had screamed, yelled, called him every name she could think of, and a few he was sure she had just made up on the spot. She had hit him, kicked him, spit at him, told him he was a pathetic loser. Then turned around and tried to seduce him. Sam _still_ didn't quite understand _that one_. She had then accused him of being a thief and stealing her witchery supplies, Sam of course, had _no_ idea _what_ the hell she was talking about. 

Leaving, Sam walked down the corridor toward Dean's room, his suitcase in hand, suits flung over his shoulder as Ruby raced along behind him telling him how Dean was using him, didn't love him, would never love him again. She even tried to throw in his face what had happened between him and Dean, the horrible mistake he’d made, all those years ago. Sam continued walking, fighting not to listen to a word she said. Even when she brought up the girl Dean had been with, the one Ruby had forced Sam to feel the first night before she had first given him her blood. He huffed as she talked about it. It was true, she _was_ like a dope dealer. She had given him just a little then taken it away, making him beg for more. 

Sam stopped in front of Dean's door and raised a hand to knock and that's when he noticed it... the hall was _silent_. Sam turned his head as he knocked on the door, looking to see where Ruby had gone, but the corridor seemed to be empty save for a maid's cart outside one of the rooms with an open door. 

Turning his head back to face the door when it was opened, Sam opened his mouth to tell Dean he had done it, had told Ruby off, only to clamp it closed as a large lamp suddenly hit him from the side, smacking him right upside the head and shoulders. Sam closed his eyes and let out a breath, a very annoyed look on his face. _Ruby_.

Dean winced. "Lampshade a new look? I like it." That was when all havoc broke loose. "Duck," he said, a second too late, and a scrubbing brush smacked Sam in the chest.

Sam huffed as the brush hit him and turned to see what else was about to come raining down on his head, only to have a mop bucket land right on his head, swinging back and forth like a bell. "Ahh!" Sam dropped his suits and reached up tugging the bucket off his head, glaring in her direction. 

"You Brute! Beast! Animal! Blood sucking leech!" She screeched, just before an office chair crashed against him. She’d broken into a storage room and had plenty of ammo left.

Dean cocked his head to the side and spread his hands out to the side. "She has a point. You're all those things. Whoa," he took a peek. She'd started to curse in a foreign language. 

Sam sighed, "Ruby, calm down. You can find... some other poor schmuck," he offered. That got the mattress thrown at him, which bounced off easily. 

"I mean, who wouldn't want to be told what to do every five seconds?" he asked her chuckling softly. That got the box springs thrown at him... not as soft. Sam staggered back a step. 

"Doesn't everyone want to be a fucking zombie!?" And that got the bedframe thrown at him. "Ow! Fuck!"

Dean's shoulders were shaking. He popped his head out again, and locked gazes with her furious dark eyes, but said nothing. He didn't have to. He was wearing his triumph in his smug expression. It really warmed his heart that he merited a screech, but then again, Sam was the one who suffered for it because he started getting pelted by towels. "You're making a mess," he told Sam.

Sam's attention snapped back to Dean, "Me!? She's the one..." he huffed, "Can I come in then? Maybe she'll stop if all she has to hit is the closed door."

"I don't know... thought I should let you stand here and suffer a little more. Maybe you'll be more careful with the friends you choose. I mean vampires, ok... but witches, really Sam?" he shook his head, his gaze following a sopping wet towel's path from Sam's head to the floor.

Sam narrowed his eyes, "Yeah well, I was drunk, everyone looks better when you're drunk. And I was hurting, and I was alone. I'd lost the love of my life, alright? Give a guy a break!" he huffed and rolled his eyes, glancing over his shoulder he saw Ruby and his eyes widened as he took a step back. "DO NOT THROW THAT!" he yelled at her. She had picked up the solid oak desk and was about to throw it right at him. "Put it down! Put it down!" He saw her dark eyes narrow and the evil smirk pull at her lips. _Oh hell...._

Grabbing Sam by the shirt, Dean pulled him inside and slammed the door shut, locking it. "You're really too nice. I'd have tossed her ass in the water," he said, plucking some of the crap she'd thrown off of Sam. "And you looked ridiculous out there. Hope you're not gonna be on the six o'clock news."

Sam frowned as he tossed his things down, "Couldn't throw her in the water, witches melt remember?" he grinned, thinking back to watching 'Wizard of Oz' on the widescreen. "No one saw us." He shrugged, "So, unless Ruby decides to tell the reporters that I told her to get lost, I doubt anyone is going to know."

"Shut up Sam, don't ruin a fun moment with logic." Still chuckling, he took some of the clothes from Sam and put them in his closet. "So... no trouble resisting?" He tried to kept his tone casual.

Sam shook his head as he watched Dean, "Not too much, no. She called me every name you can think of, made up a few of her own, hit me, kicked me," he made a face, "tried to seduce me... " he sighed, "But I just kept gathering my stuff, reminding myself that I was coming down here to you." he shrugged, "I did fine."

"Okay," he grinned. So far so good. All he needed was for their luck to hold out until they docked. Then he'd show Ruby exactly what kind of 'equipment' he had to deal with big bad vampire witches. And with her dead, there was no way that Sam would go back to his addiction. Dr. Cullen would probably have some idea on how to get him completely clean, if this wasn't doing it. As something hit the door, he looked toward it, and back. "Your girl's persistent and hard to ignore. So... you wanna grab a shower?"

Sam frowned, "She's not 'my girl' and yeah, a shower would be good," he nodded, as he reached for the clothes he needed to change into for the concert.

" _Now_ she's not your girl," Dean muttered under his breath as Sam disappeared into the bathroom. Stretching out on the bed, he put his hands behind his head, reliving the image of all that crap getting thrown at Sam, and cracking up. He didn't dare say it, but he kind of wished he'd thrown a tantrum and tossed crap at Sam too. Guess he hadn't had experience in getting dumped and protesting. The fact that he could even laugh about that... it made him laugh more.

* * *

Whether he liked it or not, Dean heart raced to match Sam's music. Or was it the other way around? He didn't know, but he was starting to feel breathless, and he knew in another few moments, the music would grow loud and then come to a sudden conclusion. 

The waiter arrived with his drink. Without looking at it, he swiped it from the tray and took a sip, almost spewing. "What is this?" he asked, making a face.

"Lady sent it over, Sir."

Dean turned and saw Ruby waving at him. _Fuck... shit... Goddamn..._ He was out of his seat and running outside to the deck and bending over the railing in a flash. He stuck his finger in his throat, forcing himself to hurl... _Goddamnit... not now... not now..._

The music rose, and then fell. The applause was thunderous. Dean rinsed his mouth out with someone's left over brandy, spitting that out as well and rushing back. He pushed a few people out of his way, but by the time he got to the stage, Sam and Ruby were gone. "Where are they? Where'd they go?" He grabbed a cocktail waiter who pointed to the stairs out on the deck.

 _Sonova..._ He hadn't seen them. He climbed up to the second deck, looked in the large and mostly empty second party room, then headed to the third deck. There, he found the door to the much smaller private party room locked. Walking around it, through the glass windows he could see Sam and Ruby, arguing. Every time Sam shouted at her, she seemed to shout harder and he'd look down.

 

Sam stood with his back to the wall, glaring at Ruby. Playing always seemed to drain him and tonight was no different. The one big difference however had been that when Ruby had come to get him, he hadn't asked for her blood, had asked for Dean instead. Apparently, that was _not_ what she had planned. 

They'd stood arguing about it, about how she could give him what he needed, had for years and the he should wake up and realize when people were using him. That had been ironic coming from her mouth. 

"Ruby, I said no. I don't want your blood. I - I'm fine," he told her, jaw clenched and set in stubborn lines. 

She smirked softly, tilting her head to the side, "Are we going to play stubborn now?" she took a step closer, Sam took one back. "You use to ask for my blood, _beg_ for it as I recall." She stepped closer, until there was no where left for Sam to go. She reached up and smoothed his long bangs off his forehead with one hand as her other hand moved to inside the deep slit of her dress, pulling the knife she had sheathed there out. 

"He doesn't want you, Sammy. Never will. Not the way, I do," she told him softly. She brought the blade over to her opposite arm, slicing open her flesh and letting him see the blood that ran down before holding it up near his face. 

Sam glanced toward her arm, before squeezing his eyes closed and hanging his head, a low groan escaping. "No." 

"Take it, Sammy," she told him softly, leaning her body closer to his, pressing herself against him. 

 

No goddamnit no. Dean tried the door again, and without hesitation, pulled the gun from the back of his waistband and in two shots, broke the lock. "Sam!" He shouted, running towards them, then slamming into an immovable force, and getting slightly knocked back. One hand on his nose, he looked down and saw a ritualistic circle. They were in it, and he couldn't get in. He slammed both fists against the forcefield. "Sam, get over here." He turned his gaze to her. "Don't you fucking touch him, don't you touch him."

Sam's head snapped up, his eyes intent on Dean. "Dean," his name fell from Sam's lips in a relieved whisper. 

Ruby glanced back at Dean, smirking. "Didn't take you for a voyeur, but what ever floats your boat, shortbus." She looked back at Sam, sheathing the knife once more as she leaned the hand of her bleeding arm against the wall near his head. 

"You smell that, Sam? I know you want it, you're eyes tell me you do. Take it. Go ahead." She nodded toward the blood running down her arm as she laid her free hand against his chest, sliding it downward. "We can have fun after you drink." 

Sam frowned and shoved her away, making her take a stumble step backward. "No!" 

Ruby moved, slapping Sam across the face, faster than the human eye could follow, the sound echoing throughout the room. The force of the blow sent Sam's head snapping to the side. "I told you to drink!" Her hand shot out, reaching up to grab a handful of his hair, her other hand gripped his jaw, turning his head back, forcing him look at Dean. "He doesn't love you, Sam. Ask him. ASK HIM!"

"Sam, get over here. Sam!" He hit the force field with the heel of his hand, cursing. "Goddamit Sam, you don't _need_ her. Not for anything." Seeing Sam manhandled, he saw red. "Hit her, hit that bitch. Sam, we talked about this... tell her to get the fuck out of your life. Tell her, now. _Now_ Goddamnit."

Sam raised his hands, grasping Ruby's wrists one in each of his as he looked at Dean and licked his lips. He swallowed against the question that wanted to come out, the question Ruby told him to ask. 

"Ruby, let go and get away from me," Sam told her through clenched teeth. 

Seeing his weakness as she watched his face, she leaned in instead, her lips near his ear. "Just look at him, Sammy. You threw that all away." She made a soft tsking noise with her tongue as she shook her head, "Now all you can hope to have is me. I love you, I take care of you. I'll always be there for you, when he's _fucking_ someone else." 

Sam turned his head within her grasp, looking at her. She nodded to him, feigning a sad face, "I'll be the one to comfort you when you feel it, to take away the sting. Don't you want that, Sam? Don't you want me to numb the sting of feeling some whores hands on what's _yours_? Numb the feeling of him getting hard and horny for _her_ ," she bit her lip to hide her smirk, "never for you, Sam. Never for you." 

Sam closed his eyes swaying toward her. 

"That's right Sam, that's right. Drink, and I can make it all go away..." she ran her tongue across his ear, "forever."

"Stop, Sam. Look at her. Look what she has to do to get you to drink. Tell you lies, rip you apart... just so she can rebuild you. You know she's a witch, you know she's using you, fucking tell her off." Dean's chest heaved, his head pounded as instead of drawing away, Sam moved closer to her. 

Dean pulled out all stops. "Sam... Sam don't you break _another_ promise to me," Dean said, lowering his voice. "Twenty four hours, you promised me... you live up to it, Goddamit. Live up to it, this time." 

A snarl tore from Sam's throat as he shoved Ruby away with enough force it sent her sprawling onto the floor. "Stay," he pointed at her, "stay away from me." He paused, drawing in a breath, "I mean it. I earned this pain, leave it where it is," he said through gritted teeth. 

His eyes strayed to the blood on her arm as he fought the urge to take it and drink anyway. If she couldn't say the incantation, it was only blood... He closed his eyes, muscle twitching in his jaw, before he turned and stepped over the circle, nearly falling into Dean's arms. "Get me some blood," he told him weakly, face pressed against Dean's neck. "Before I help myself."

Wrapping his strong arms around Sam, Dean started to walk him out. "Come on Sam, you can do this. You can," he kept saying as they walked and Sam's weight on him grew heavier. That wasn't all, he felt tensing, and one sideways look at him and he saw his eyes were growing dark. 

Sam held on to Dean as they walked, the sound of his blood rushing through his veins, his heart beats, echoing in Sam's head as the blood pounded in his temples, his fangs aching. "Dean..." he shook his head, "need..." in the next second, Sam was slamming Dean's back against the corridor wall, pinning him there with his weight as onyx eyes met green. Sam stared into Dean's eyes, fangs showing, a low groan/growl sounding in his throat. "Took too long," Sam muttered softly as he leaned in, his face against Dean's neck, tongue ghosting over sensitive flesh. 

Moaning softly, Sam pressed his tongue against Dean's throat, feeling the blood move beneath the surface. "I want to taste you again," he said softly, "been too long." Sam's hands ran down Dean's sides and back up, moving down his arms to his hands, lacing their fingers together before Sam pulled them up, pressing their joined hands against the wall. "Mine," he whispered softly, so soft, if he weren’t beside Dean's ear, he never would have heard him.

The whispered word, an echo from the past, sent Dean's senses reeling. He remembered that, and so much more. His heart stuttered. He swallowed, bit his lip hard to snap out of it. It would be easy, so fucking easy to fall into this, right here... right now. He moved his hands, surprised that Sam allowed him the movement. "Not here, Sammy. Let's get to the room. Only a few more minutes. I'll give you want you want." 

The lack of, 'yours Sammy', hit Sam like Ruby's slap across the face. No, correction, Ruby's slap hadn't stung this badly. Sam clamped his mouth closed, slowly pulling back from Dean and taking a step back. Give him what he wanted? Somehow, Sam doubted that, but he nodded, biting his lip. Sam didn't hold onto Dean after that for support, but used the wall, one palm flat against it, he moved with Dean down the corridor toward their room... no, Dean's room, Sam corrected his own thoughts. 

Sighing softly when they finally reached the room, Sam stood watching Dean as he unlocked the door. "Sorry," he jutted his chin, looking up, "about back there," he muttered, eyes meeting Dean's again, before he staggered into the room and collapsed down onto the bed. 

Dean noticed the change in Sam's demeanor but didn't ask questions. The important thing was that he'd listened, and they were finally in his room. As Sam flopped onto his bed, Dean glanced at the knife and cup he'd left on the table. He really should use the glass to feed him, should spare both of them. But one look at Sam, and it was like some force was pulling Dean toward him. He tossed his jacked off, pulled off the tie and unbuttoned the dress shirt, tossing each article down, and then climbing on the bed, crawling over Sam with his knees straddling Sam's hips. 

Sam's eyes followed every movement Dean made, though he remained motionless and silent on the bed. _Like a predator,_ Ruby would have told him. That’s how she did it when she was out finding her kill for the evening. Motionless and silent as the night. Seduce and take, humans could never say no. Hell of a lot she knew apparently. Stupid bitch.

When their eyes met, the dark need in Sam's affected Dean the way they always did. Unsmiling. He helped Sam take off his jacket, his hands shaking, undid his bowtie. 

Sam frowned slightly as Dean helped him. He really didn't need to take his jacket off to drink a bag of blood... but he wasn't going to argue. The bow tie had him frowning even more, but he kept it inside, not wanting to make Dean mad.

Sliding both hands under Sam's shoulders and lifting, Dean lowered himself bringing his throat up against Sam's mouth. "You won't hear me in your head. You have to listen, to stop when I say," he told him, heart quickening as he felt Sam's mouth open. 

Sam had to stifle the moan that wanted to bubble out. He listened to Dean as best as he could with the blaring sounds of Dean's blood and heartbeats echoing in his head, blood pounding in his temples, his fangs aching. His mouth opened instinctively, his tongue darting out to taste the flesh of Dean's neck, even though he was hesitant to bite, or maybe it was more that he wanted to be hesitant. Wanted to be sure, but instinct, raw basic need, bloodlust, slammed into him and before he had the chance to ask Dean, to make certain this was what he wanted, Sam was sinking his fangs into his throat with a long groan. 

As Dean's blood ran over Sam's tongue filling his mouth, coating his throat, Sam's arms rose, wrapping around Dean, crushing him to him in a vise-like grip. Not wanting to let go, to ever let go, for more reasons than his thirsting mind could comprehend. Sam moaned as he drank deeply, tongue licking against the wound even as he suckled. One hand trailing up Dean's bare back and down soothingly as he feasted on blood that he hadn't had in so long, blood he thought he would never have again. Blood that was unlike anyone elses, anywhere. It was his Ambrosia, his Absinthe, and it was his heaven.

For Dean, there was the usual pain, that quickly disappeared. Then Sam was making sounds he'd almost forgotten, holding him tight, like he wouldn't countenance any attempt to pull away, and yet so gentle at the same time. He didn't recall the gentleness. Had it always been like this? Then there was there was the pull of a tide, sweeping him slowly away. As he started to feel Sam's blood lust, he moaned. He'd forgotten the intensity of its burn, the overwhelming hunger, the need. 

He grew warm, his skin extremely sensitive now to Sam's every touch. With each stroke of Sam's palms, he was that much more aware of him. Aware of every plane of his chest and abs under him, and the powerful thighs that he had trapped between his own. God, he was getting hard... and he probably shouldn't do this, but his body remembered how they rubbed and touched when Sam fed. Raging hormones inched through his veins, spiking up his need until he couldn't resist. "Oh, God..." he started to fuck against Sam with long, deliberate movements, sliding his arousal over Sam's cock, making a strangled sound as white hot heat spread through his body. "Oh, God... oh God," he whispered thickly, rocking harder, "oh, my God, Sam..." 

Sam had promised, had made a silent vow to Dean that he wouldn't push him, that he wouldn't ask for what Dean didn't want. How could he? How could he live through hearing Dean deny him again? He couldn't. He wasn't that strong. He just... wasn't. But then Dean started to move on him and Sam tensed, abruptly going from softly caressing to curling his hands into fists on Dean’s back. 

It meant nothing. Nothing. Every human had a response to a vampire's bite, that was what this was, and nothing more. He told himself he would simply lay still, allow Dean to do as his body needed, use him however his body craved as Sam drank Dean's blood. He could do that... he _had_ to do that... for Dean. Of course, it didn't mean that his own body wasn't reacting, that his own cock didn't immediately thicken and lengthen, didn't mean that a deep groan/growl didn't sound deep in Sam's throat as his breaths quickened, even as he lay still and tried so hard, fought so hard, not to take any thing that wasn't his anymore to take.

Where was all the control Dean thought he'd learned? Where? His mind was flooding with so many erotic images, their bodies naked, sliding to together, fingers biting into skin, jerky uncontrolled movements, long groans. Tastes and scents he'd missed for so long... so long he sometimes wondered if they'd only been a dream. Opening his mouth, he sucked a bruise into Sam's shoulder, rolling his tongue around smooth skin, drawing in his intoxicating scent with every breath.

Old feelings stirred. Memories of a time when Sam had been his only focus. Fuck... it had been good, and then it had been hell. He tried to concentrate instead on the sensations, the feel of Sam's mouth taking his life's blood, the sound of his breaths and groans of satisfaction. He worked his hands down under Sam's ass, lifting him up as he thrust, vaguely aware that Sam was still, like in those days when they'd fought about him resisting. He arched into him, teeth clenching over skin until he realized he was biting and pulled his head up slightly. 

Sam was losing the battle with his body, with his responses. Dean felt so good, so right, _this_ all of it was so right, perfect, like home. A soft whimper sounded in Sam's throat as Dean's slid his hands under his ass, making him thrust against Dean. _Oh God! Oh yes!_

And then Dean was biting him and Sam was too lost to stop. A deep growl broke from his throat as he reached down, gripping Dean's ass and pressing him down as Sam thrust upward. Sam's eyes snapped open to look at Dean, dark needy and intense. Each thrust of Sam's hips was harder than the last against Dean's groin. His hands running up Dean's bare back and back down, one hand rose to the back of Dean's head, digits threading through the short strands of Dean's hair just before Sam rolled them, pressing Dean into the mattress. 

_Oh God! So Good! Love you so much! Dean..._

At the sound of Sam's silent declaration reverberating in his head, Dean abruptly stopped moving. Time froze. It was only thirty seconds, but he couldn't move, couldn't think, didn't know how to deal with the sudden fear and elation warring within him. Then Sam was thrusting against him again, and Dean lost himself in the sensations. Groaning, he impatiently pulled Sam's shirt out of his pants, needing to feel skin. And then he was touching him, shoving his hands under the soft material, stroking and gripping and stroking Sam's flesh, his blood thickening as he felt Sam's muscles contract. "Fuck... God Sam, more," he demanded arching up into him. 

As Dean pulled at his shirt, shoving it out of the way of his searching hands, Sam's own hands moved franticly, running over Dean's flesh, memorizing over again the feel of his human, the way he felt, the heat that warmed him, that radiated from Dean. 

Sam's hands moved to the front of Dean’s dress slacks, nimble digits making quick work of the fastenings and then Sam was sliding his hand underneath it and boxers to circle his palm around his length, thumb ghosting over the tip of his cock. He moved his other hand under Dean's ass, lifting him up, into Sam's hand, against his body. 

Dean arched practically off the mattress as Sam's large hand closed around him, moving so violently he almost dislodged Sam's mouth from his throat. His eyes fluttered closed as Sam teased and stroked him, working him up slowly, making him ache so bad it hurt. "Oh God, Sam... baby, a little more," he begged, eyes squeezed shut now as he fucked Sam's hand to the image of himself laying on a white piano, and Sam fucking into him like there was no yesterday and no tomorrow, like there had never been a yesterday, like this was the only thing that counted.

Sam squeezed Dean gently, pumped his cock harder, faster in his hand to Dean's words. The hand on Dean's ass slipping out to push at the dress pants constricting the movement of his hand, pushing them down more, out of his way, wanting, needing to get to Dean. And then the image, foggy and distant came to Sam, unbidden and not his own. The image of Dean laying on his piano as he lay over him, fucking him hard, caressing him, touching him everywhere he could as Dean's body arched and bucked back against him. _Oh God!_ He didn't have his piano handy, but he could do the next best thing. 

Sam rose up onto his knees, head bowed to Dean's neck, fangs still lodged in his throat as Sam straddled Dean's hips, his hand slipping from under the dress slacks. Sam shoved them down to mid thigh then ran his hands down Dean's sides, gripping his hips as a groan left him before letting go with one hand dragging it across Dean's groin to grasp his shaft once again, pumping slowly, long deliberate strokes. His free hand slid from Dean's hip, up his body, across his chest, the side of his neck Sam wasn't drinking from, to cup his face. 

His hand slid down again, back the way it had come, just needing to touch Dean everywhere, to memorize everything, he needed to, had to, it had to last him for eternity. _I love you, will always love you. God, I've missed you so much._

Writhing and feverish, Dean was almost senseless. Sam was playing him like he was an instrument, his hands running over him, touching him, making his heart pound and his blood rush, just like in his music. A moan broke out of him, and then he heard Sam's mental thoughts. It was like a whisper... like a dream... like a song that only the two of them could ever hear... share. His throat closed up at the proclamation as wishes slammed into his heart, shattering whatever remnants were left. Even as he ran his fingers over the back of Sam's hand on his shaft, then up his arm, he felt tears prick his eyes. What he wouldn't give for this to have happened that Valentines day so long ago... before he'd given up hope, when he'd been so sure of Sam, of his lover, of his mate. His shoulders shook as he started to cry. He tried to stop himself, to cover his reaction. _It was real. Tell me it was real, when we had it. Tell me._ As the years passed, he'd doubted even his own memories.

Sam squeezed his eyes closed tighter as he fought against his bloodlust, against the overwhelming need to keep drinking. He had learned control with Ruby, learned to stop drinking on his own, pull back, cut it off. But it had never been this hard with her. Shifting, he ran his free hand upward, moving it to lean on his forearm near Dean's head, digits threading through his hair as his other hand continued to work Dean's shaft in long strokes, his hand swiveling on each downward stroke. 

With a low groan, Sam pulled his head back, dislodging his fangs with a gasp, before he turned his head slightly, slanting his mouth over Dean's. Sam could taste his tears as he kissed him and tried to kiss him harder and yet with gentleness, to put his love into the kiss as his fingers combed through the soft short strands of Dean's hair. Pulling back Sam looked down into Dean's face, "You're still beautiful, just like always."

He shook his head. "No... I'm not the beautiful one." Arms around Sam's shoulder's, he lifted up and brought their mouths together, kissing him desperately as his body vibrated at a fevered pitch. "Oh God... now," he said, lifting his hips up, back stiffening as searing heat spread through his system. "Fuck..." Squeezing his eyes shut, he rode his release, so intense, so fucking intense, so unreal... "Sam--" It was over abruptly, just like Sam's music, and he was left gasping for breath. 

Sam watched Dean as he came, it was the most beautiful sight he'd seen in ten years. One he never thought he'd see again. Pain clutched at his dead heart, but he ignored it holding Dean as tightly he could with one arm. At the end, as Dean lay gasping for breath, Sam smiled softly down at him and shook his head as he drew his hand away slowly from Dean's cock. "That, was beautiful," he told him before leaning in to brush his lips across Dean's again.

"Yes, it was. Yes, it was," he panted, gripping Sam's shoulder so he couldn't pull back. "You didn't feel it. Didn't hear... me." Moving his head, so his face was buried in the crook of Sam's neck, "I felt and heard everything." He let out a few more breaths. "How did you stop? It's... not the same?"

Sam shook his head sadly, "Too.. numb yet, I guess." he shrugged a shoulder, biting his lip. Sam's eyes widened slightly before he frowned, "You... _heard_ everything?" Sam swallowed hard and started to hang his head, to look away, but Dean's next question stopped him. Sam shook his head, "It's exactly the same, perfect. I've just... learned more control." He frowned slightly, thoughtfully. He stared at the pillow behind Dean's head for a moment, before his gaze met Dean's again. "Self preservation, maybe," his brows rose momentarily as he gave a small frown.

"You saying you're afraid I'd kill you?" Dean chuckled, "with you 'distracting' me like that, not happening." One hand slipped down his body and he started to pull his pants up, leaning over the side of the bed to grab a tee and wipe up, and passing it to Sam. He let out a deep breath. "Thank you. For not taking her blood," he smiled, "and this."

Sam frowned in the midst of cleaning his hand off and looked over at Dean, "You're _thanking me_ for this?" he looked back down and shook his head, "Yeah well, thanks for the blood, and no, I didn't mean self preservation against you. I meant Ruby... where I learned control. Needed it with her blood," he pulled off the bed and started to walk around it toward the door, "if I hadn't, I might be a friggin' mindless vampire slave now." He made a face, gave a visible shudder. "I'm _so_ not into the whole 'boy toy' idea."

"Hmph." Dean didn't like the idea any better. "Sam? Don't you want me to..." His gaze dropped to the still visible bulge in the vampire's pants. 

Sam followed Dean's gaze as he looked down at his very obvious hard-on. Looking back up at Dean he shrugged a shoulder, "I'll be okay." He offered a small smile and running a hand through his hair, licked his lips, suddenly nervous. One hand went to his groin, pressing down on his erection as he hissed in a breath, making a face, like a wince. He nodded then, "Yeah, see, I'm good." Of course, it really hadn't gotten any better.

Pushing himself off the bed, Dean walked up to Sam, eyes locked, then dropped down to his knees. "I haven't done this since... yeah, ah... let's see if I still got it." He undid Sam's button, then leaned in and caught the zipper with his teeth and pulled it down. He gripped Sam's pants on either side of his hips and started to slide it down. "So Ruby never... I mean didn't you get... like this." He knew the blood lust always turned Sam on, and he didn't really believe the 'just blood' comments, not based on his experience.

Sam watched Dean walk over, held perfectly still as he kelt in front of him and undid his slacks, swallowing hard as he continued to watch him. "Do you _really_ want to know about my sex life or lack there of?" he asked him frowning. 

Sure he and Ruby had had sex a few times, but even those few times had never been as passionate, as good as what he had had with Dean, not even close. She’sd been someone who was willing, a body to hold and something to feel other than the heart wrenching pain that had taken over. The first time had been the night he went home with her, the first time she gave him blood. After, the times were fogged, a dazed memory of things he had done as if watching someone else, detached and unfeeling for the most part. She had tried for more, had offered, but he had always turned her down, asking only for the blood instead, and after her blood, he was too numb to feel much of anything.

"You're right. None of my business," Dean said quickly, unsure why it was that he wanted to know. Why the hell it should bother him at all. He ran his hands up and down Sam's legs, loving his powerful body... so perfectly sculpted... unbelievably perfect, and yet the way Sam acted, you'd think it went over his head. Leaning in, he started to kiss a path up his thighs, first one, then the other, rubbing his mouth back and forth, letting his tongue dart out to taste him. As he moved higher, and as he felt Sam tensing, he realized he was tensing too... that he was starting to get hard. No one could do this to him, so fast, with no effort. No one but Sam Cullen.

Sam's frown deepened at Dean's words. That wasn't what he had meant. He had meant that he didn't think Dean really wanted to hear... he closed his eyes for a moment letting out a slow breath before he opened them again, just as Dean started to run his hands over his thighs. 

Sam was feeling as awkward as he had that first night in the safe room, when he had been chained to the wall. He wasn't shy like this around other people, only Dean. But then, he wasn't trying to impress other people, just Dean. Sam bit his lip as he watched him, felt his lips against his flesh, his tongue. A soft moan escaping him as he laid a hand on Dean's head, running his fingers through the strands. 

As Dean slowly made his way higher, Sam tensed, waiting, holding back the urges he felt, how his fangs began to ache again, his eyes immediately darkening, the blood pounding in his temples. Sam swallowed hard, "Don't tease too much, you remember what happens when you do that." Sam told him, voice deep, husky, needy.

He looked up and saw how black Sam's eyes were. The dark heat was a sight for sore eyes, but whereas once he would have pushed Sam to his limit, he just nodded. He pulled Sam's briefs down, swallowing hard as he exposed his thick and ready cock angling up toward his stomach. He blew a hot breath over his shaft, then caught it between his lips, sucking and pressing his tongue against its length, moving back and forth, wetting him. Pulling off, he repeated the motions on the other side of his cock, still ignoring his head, though Sam kept pressing it against him. 

As Dean's hot breath hit his cock, Sam clenched his teeth. The feel of his mouth, teasing as he wet him, had Sam closing his eyes as he sucked in a breath. "Mm..."

Only once Dean had him nice and wet all over, did he grasp Sam's cock and suck his head inside his mouth. He worked him with his hand, twisting his wrist as he sucked progressively harder, moving his mouth up and down, tasting, feeling, loving every one of Sam's responses and waiting for his next thrust, his next needy groan or cry.

 

Sam’s hips moved of their own accord, thrusting slightly forward, needing, seeking Dean's mouth fully on him, wanting into that moist heat. When Dean grasped him in hand, Sam's eyes opened to watch as he took him into his mouth, a low moan leaving him, before he gasped, head tilting back. Sam's hips bucked, fucking Dean's mouth, as the hand in Dean's hair tightened into a fist, enough moans and groans falling from Sam's parted lips, he'd of made a porn star proud. 

"Oh God! Oh Dean! Oh yeah!" Sam's hips moved faster, fucking Dean's mouth harder. He pressed his lips together, then licked them before biting his bottom lip, his free hand moving to Dean's shoulder, holding onto him, finger tips pressing deep, gripping hard onto the bare flesh. Sam's breaths came faster through parted lips, his thrusting becoming more erratic. His fangs aching, blood pounding in his temples. He was fighting the urge to grab Dean and throw him onto the bed, to take and possess, fighting to allow this to be enough, to rein in the lust and bloodlust raging through him once again.

Dean could tell by the increasing pressure of Sam's cock and the ever tightening grip of his hands, the way his fingers bit into him, Sam was getting desperate. He sucked harder, taking him all the way, pulling off and then working him again, fast and hard. His head bobbed faster, in time with Sam's labored breaths. He dragged his mouth off Sam again, the soft wet pop making him go instantly hard too. Then he wrapped his fingers around Sam, and looking up, stroked up and down, watching his vampire slowly go out of his mind. He'd forgotten the raw beauty of that sight... how much he loved it when the predator in Sam peeked out.

Sam shook his head, pressing his lips together, "Need..." it was the only word he got out, before Sam moved, a quick bending before he lifted Dean in his arms, his mouth crushing against Dean, tongue pressing inside, tangling with Dean before drawing Dean's tongue into his mouth and sucking hard. Sam turned and all but fell onto the bed with Dean, pulling and tugging at the remaining clothes Dean had on, trying to get them off, to get to him, to touch his flesh, to possess. "Get it off, everything...." Sam panted out, as he dipped his head, running his tongue across Dean's neck, "if you don't I'll rip them off. Want you _now_!"

Dean's breath was knocked out of him. A shiver ran through his system as Sam licked him and threatened to tear his clothes off. It didn't take a genius to see that Sam was holding on by a bare thread, and hell if that didn't excite Dean like it shouldn't. "Alright," he whispered thickly near Sam's ear as he undid his pants and started to strip out of them, only to have Sam pull them completely off in one move. He didn't wait for Sam to make the first move, instead, he hooked one arm over Sam's shoulder, and wrapped the other around his waist, dragging him close as he sought out his mouth. "Right here, Sam... right here," he whispered, before slanting his mouth over Sam's and meeting his tongue half way, battling just as fiercely, struggling to get closer, instinctively trying to make up for lost time.

Sam kissed Dean back with abandon, tongues tangled, teeth nipping at Dean's lips, arms wrapped tightly around him as he thrust up against Dean. When Sam couldn't take it anymore, when the blood lust and lust had gone too far, when they rode him too hard, his fangs aching, blood pounding in his temples so hard, so good he was nearly trembling, Sam rolled them, pinning Dean under him with his weight as he dipped his head, "Want you, to fuck you, taste you, possess you..." Sam whispered softly his mouth near Dean's throat. 

Sam's hand slid under Dean, finger tips ghosting over his tight hole before Sam slid his hand away at the same moment his fangs slid into Dean's neck and Sam thrust his cock into Dean's ass, a loud growl spilling from, his arms wrapped around Dean, holding onto him like steel bands. _Mine, oh God, mine, mine, mine._

Dean let out a short holler, stunned by the sudden and unexpected invasion of his body. In a single move, Sam had impaled him with his cock, and with his fangs, and was claiming him in a way he never had before. Fear, anger, and resentment... those were feelings he should be having right now. Instead, he was flooded with Sam's feeling, his need, so undeniable, so unwavering... absolute. It wasn't about power, it wasn't about control, it was about a vampire claiming his mate, and whether Dean liked it or not, he understood, and felt it right along with Sam. 

Time passed. Dean's body adjusted to Sam's cock, the burning sensation slowly diminishing. Then all Dean could think about was the lust that flowed back and forth between them... Sam's... his own, and it was too much... too fucking much. "Fuck me. Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me," he demanded, raising his hips, pushing himself toward Sam, "come on... fuck me." He was burning up and Sam hadn't even started to take him. Oh God... oh God he wanted it so bad, and it made no difference whether those were his own feelings or Sam's.

Sam lay still as he could, fighting not to move, remembering belatedly that Dean was still human even if he was stronger, faster, better. He could still hurt, be hurt. So, he waited, waited for Dean's body to adjust, waited for the pain to pass for Dean. While he waited, Sam drank, sucking deeply, tongue lapping at the flesh, pressing against Dean's neck and releasing. He drank his blood, fucking the wound with his tongue, until Sam was in a mindless haze of bloodlust. Slowly, Dean's words broke through the haze and Sam began to move, pulling back and thrusting in again slowly at first, then steadily faster, pivoting his hips until he found the right spot, when Dean reacted, he knew he had found where he wanted to be, tried to focus on that area as he thrust hard into him. 

_Oh God, so hot, so tight, so perfect. Love you. Love you so much... Your body, your blood, oh my God..._

"Unghhh." Dean gave an incoherent groan as Sam's cock brushed against his prostate just right, sending incredible heat curling through his system. He'd felt it second-hand before, felt it in Sam's reactions through their connections, but this ... this was so fucking intense, so different. He clenched around his lover, feeling how crazy that made Sam, and the payoff was incredible. "Oh God... yes, yes," he ran one hand through Sam's hair, pulling him close, tight, loving the erotic sensation of Sam lapping at his throat... knowing the danger of too much blood loss, but unable, unwilling to give this up just yet.

"More, more," he demanded, bucking against Sam, his eyes rolling back at Sam's instantaneous reaction, giving him what he asked for. He was being fucked within an inch of his life and it was his first time... and he didn't give a damn. It felt good. It felt right, and he needed this right now as much as Sam did. Maybe more, because unlike Sam, he hadn't been numb for nine years. Or maybe he had, maybe he'd numbed himself in his own way. Built a damned fort around his heart, vowing not to ever get it broken again.

Somehow, he found himself dragged into Sam's memories. Afraid ... so afraid to look, to feel. Trying desperately not to, trying to concentrate on how good it felt to have Sam inside him... but he kept slipping and getting glimpses. Sam's despair at having left him. Images he'd built inside his own mind about Sam being cold and heartless, unaffected, came crashing down. Birthday... his first birthday after Sam left him, Sam had intended to come see him... talk. He could feel Sam's resolve, how he'd practiced his speeches about how they could fix their relationship, salvage it. What he expected from Dean and what he could give. And then it all melted away. One hit of Ruby's blood. And the next. And the next. And every time he formulated the decision to come to him, it was gone.

Then he slipped into that first Valentine's day they'd spent apart. He'd thought it was the worst day of his life, but it had been of Sam's too... and that was saying something when the vampire had gone through decades of torture. Dean wanted to weep again. Goddamit, he wasn't a girl. Why was Sam putting him through this again and again. _You should have come for me. I waited all day, all night. You let her take you from me. But if you'd come that day..._ It hurt so bad again, so bad, he snapped out of it. "Harder... harder goddamit." Anything to stop thinking, to stop sifting through painful memories. He had enough of his own.

Sam snarled against Dean's throat as he thrust as hard as he dared into Dean, small grunts and moans sounding against Dean's neck with each one. His hands sliding out from around Dean to hold him under his shoulders, hands curling around the top of them to pull Dean back into him with each pump of his hips, each thrust into Dean. Making it that much harder, that much deeper. Sam slowly pulled his fangs from Dean's neck, nicking his tongue as he did, to bleed on the wound to close it. 

Sam raised his head, ebony eyes staring down into green a moment before Sam closed his eyes tightly, biting his lip as heat pooled in lower belly, balls drawing up. "Come with me, Dean." Sam pulled a hand from under Dean's shoulders to slip between them as Sam rose up just slightly, grasping Dean's cock in his hand and pump him hard and fast in time with each of his thrusts into Dean.

The sight of Sam in the throes of passion, biting his lip and concentrating as he skittered to the edge sent Dean up in flames. "You're killing me," he croaked, thrusting into Sam's fist, faster, harder, and pushing against Sam's cock, taking all of his lover. "Yeah... yeah... Sammy close, fuck... tell me what you feel," he said, gripping Sam's shoulders and thrusting up one last time, whispering against his ear, "tell me," as he came again, hard... like hadn't come only a short while ago.

Sam gasped, grit his teeth a growl working out of him, "Feel..." Dean wanted him to talk? _Now!?_

Sam was teetering on the edge, nearly falling over. He tried to think, to form words clearly, to order his thoughts so he could answer Dean. At his whispered words, Sam lost it, spiraling over the edge, "Heaven," he ground out the word between clenched teeth, just before the first wave of his orgasm crashed through him, making him come hard deep inside Dean, filling him. "Oh God! Oh my God! So good..." Sam growled at the end of his words, throwing his head back, riding his pleasure. 

Spent, Sam collapsed on top of Dean, though he tried to not let all of his weight hit him, leaning on forearms, head bowed, his breaths panting out against Dean's ear and neck.

They were still moving together ever so slowly. Dean tried to catch his breath, his mind struggling slightly with the notion that he'd just been _fucked._ He rolled the thought around in his mind, then he started to laugh, a deep rumbling laugh that had Sam's face lifting suddenly to look at him. "I, Dean Winchester, have been tied up, have had my blood sucked, and now... I've been fucked." He put his hand on the side of Sam's face. "How... how do you get me to do _these things?_ "

Sam smiled slightly, "Just lucky, I guess." He didn't move for a few moments, only gazed into Dean's eyes, love shining in his own. Slowly he leaned in, pressing his lips against Dean's.

Dean nipped Sam's lips with is own, kissing him lightly, sucking his lower lip into his mouth. Then they were at it again, mouths meshing together, tongues tangling. He rolled Sam over onto his back on the small bed, running his hand over the broad expanse of his chest. Kissing him again, he put his head down on Sam's chest and took a deep breath. "Your TK didn't act up. You feeling okay?" Without thinking, he pressed his mouth over Sam's nipple, licking him lightly. He tasted so damned good. 

Sam moaned softly at he feel of Dean's hands running over him. "Hm? Yeah, I'm good. Not 100% myself yet," Sam gasped softly, at the feel of Dean licking across his nipple, a low moan ecaping. "Don't need to wait, remember?" he smiled as he opened his eyes, "I also _did_ ," he shrugged a shoulder slightly, "manage to learn to learn a little bit of control." He held up a hand, thumb and forefinger pressed together to show Dean the amount of control he's learned. 

Laughter bubbled out of Dean. "That much control, huh? God I hope you ruined as many of _her_ things, as mine." Seeming to forget what they were talking about, he bent his head and paid a little more attention to Sam's nipple, licking then blowing over it. "Probably should take a shower and pack. We'll be in port in a few hours."

Sam looked at Dean, his gaze intent, smile falling away. "There was never any _reason_ for me to have broken her stuff. No one can excite me like you can." He tore his gaze away, looking up at the ceiling and sighed. "Port." he said the word, but it was haunted, empty. He frowned just slightly, "Yeah," his voice was soft, "I guess we should."

Oddly pleased, Dean kissed Sam's chest one last time, then pulled off the bed, walking to the bathroom without a stitch of clothing. "Shower's ah... real small, not like in your room," he mentioned, stepping into the bathroom and starting the water. He wondered where Ruby was, having half expected her to break in on them. The bitch had it in for him, which was fine because he had it in for her too. 

Sam raised up on his elbows as he looked at Dean in the bathroom, "I think we can manage. I seem to remember us fitting into small showers before." The corners of his lips quirked into a small smirk. 

* * *

In the morning, they sat out on the deck, having coffee as the yacht drew closer to port. Dean had a thicker jacket on as it was cloudy and cold. They hardly talked since a lot of the passengers approached Sam for a few last words from the pianist who'd been the highlight of their evenings. Dean mainly watched him from under his lashes. He was still a mystery... a contrast in so many ways. He could be demanding and aggressive... hell, the slight soreness Dean was still feeling was a reminder of that. And yet he could be so damned shy, his eyes darting downwards at a compliment or a personal question.

He was behaving much more like the Sam he knew. His reactions came faster, his eyes were quick to change and reflect his emotions from second to second. The drugged out flatness was gone and in the morning, he'd shown off his TK skills by using them to pack stuff. They were coming back to him, his powers. 

Taking a sip of his coffee, Dean gave a low laugh. It would be so damned easy to pretend ten years hadn't slipped past, that they'd never been apart. So damned easy. Too easy. He closed his eyes and remembered his despair when Sam left, reminding himself why he'd never go back there again, never build his life... his hopes and dreams around one person.

The yacht docked and people were leaving, taking their luggage, waving and moving on. Dean kept his eyes out for Ruby. When he glimpsed her dark hair, he muttered under his breath about having forgotten his cell phone in the room, and also needing to talk to a crew member. As he got up, Sam did too, offering to go get the cell, just like Dean had known he would. 

And just as he thought, once Sam left, Ruby came up to him, her eyes filled with hatred, and threats at the tip of her tongue. He'd walked up to the railing, and just listened to her ranting and telling him not to sleep, because he was already a dead man.

"Yeah, whatever, bitch." He waved her off.

"Your fancy 'weapons' aren't going to save you," she said, walking backwards down the plank.

Dean waited until she was almost all the way off the ship. "Oh yeah? You tell that to my _weapons_ ," he shouted back, giving her the middle finger and turning his back.

Ruby turned and saw vampires, Alice, Jasper, Emmett, Rosalie... focused on her, focused solely on her and showing her their fangs. 

The next time Dean looked down, all of them were gone, and he knew the chase was on. He was still wearing his grin, when Sam arrived with empty hands. "Sorry Sam... looks like I had it all the time," he said, draining the rest of his drink and putting the cup down.

Sam nodded, "Uh, it's okay." He frowned as he looked around deck, then back at Dean. "Have you, uh, have you seen Ruby around? I was hoping to avoid her if possible." He sighed and hung his head. "I know you think I should just bash her head in, but she is a female, Dean." He raised a brow, "I can't do that. I was born in the '20's remember? We were taught not to, uh, 'bash' our females’ heads in." he smirked, "no matter how much they deserve it."

Dean gave a snort. "I don't have that problem. I took care of her." Seeing the disbelief in Sam's eyes, he poked him in the chest. "You gotta stop underestimating me. That's the biggest weakness of you vamp types." Grinning, he bent to pick up his duffel bag. He didn't know if Sam would have more withdrawal issues without Ruby around, but he'd handled that too. Dr. Cullen would be in Seattle by noon, and he'd take care of Sam. 

Sam glanced toward the plank, toward all the disembarking passengers and bit his lip, before looking back at Dean, "So, uh, where do we go from here? I mean, are we..." he pressed his lips together and hung his head, running a hand through his hair. How did he ask if they were 'okay'? And did he really want to hear the answer if Dean told him no, that it was still over, that this had just been a brief stop in an eternity of being apart? Sam wasn't sure he wanted to know the answer anymore now that he had thought about it.

 _Are we..._ Dean's breath caught. He knew he should have been expecting that question. He ran a hand over his face. "I don't know. Maybe you go to your fancy apartment and your nice silk sheets and piano, you gotta have one of those," he gave wry smile... why the fuck did that turn him on so much? "And I go to my not so fancy motel and ah... you know, you got my number. Gimme a call some time." His gaze shifted to Sam's eyes. "Nothing wrong with dating, is there?"

Sam frowned and shook his head, "Naw, " he offered Dean a small tight smile, "okay then, I'll, uh, " he nodded, "I'll call you." He leaned in then, placing a soft lingering kiss on Dean's lips, but didn't draw back right away, just stilled there with his lips a hairs breath away from Dean's for a moment. "Love you." he whispered softly, and with that, Sam was gone. 

He had moved quickly, with vampire speed, before he wasn't able to do it, wasn't able to leave, and was now walking off the ship amongst the other passengers. Home, Dean had said, to his apartment. He hadn't been to that little apartment in years, having all but given it up when he and Ruby had moved in together. Her idea. His piano... yeah, he had one. It filled up the entire bedroom of the small apartment in the back of the old couples home. Not that he needed a bedroom anyway. Yeah, it might be nice to go back there. Maybe he would even call Alice and Emmett... Emmett had to want a hunting partner again. That thought made him smile.

Dean stood at the railing until Sam headed for the parking lot and disappeared from view. He was afraid he'd chase after him, say more, promise more than he could give. _I love you._


	33. Chapter 33

After they parted, Sam headed to his small apartment in Seattle. His Landlord had taken care of his place and kept it aired out so it wasn't much different than the way he had left it, save for a few spiders that had taken up residence in his absence. After unpacking, Sam had worked up the courage to call his family, only to have a knock sound at his door. Rushing over, thinking, hoping, praying that maybe it was Dean, Sam had thrown it open and found Carlisle and Esme standing there, warm smiles on their faces. His brothers and sisters joining them somewhere near dawn the first night.

 

His family stayed in Seattle for nearly two weeks. It was wonderful to have his family back, to talk and joke and laugh again and Carlisle was there to care for Sam whenever he needed blood, to make certain that he had animal blood, that he didn't relapse back to looking for a way to numb the pain. Numb the ache of separation from Dean.

 

Sam had done well, not mentioning the pain, not dwelling on it. Hunting with Emmett and laughing, playing games with his family, it helped. Sam withstood the temptation of searching for Ruby, or a substitutes, even if at twilight, when he was at his calmest, visions and memories of Dean would filter back into his thoughts, making his chest ache with a dull pain.

 

In the absence of Ruby’s tainted blood, his own blood, with its healing properties cleaned him out. His family only left after Carlisle confirmed he was clean and there was no withdrawal symptoms.

 

Valentine’s was only a few days away, and Sam wasn't about to live though another hellacious one, he had an idea, a plan. As he sat at his piano in his room, playing soft music, he smiled as he thought about it. Wouldn't Dean be surprised?

 

Taking his hands off the keys, he grabbed his cell from the top of the piano and scrolled through the list of numbers to Dean's, his thumb ghosting over the send button a moment before he pressed it. "Dean? It's me. How are you?"

There was a brief silence and a sharp intake of breath. "Sam. Good. You?" he asked. Dean had resisted the urge to call Carlisle to find out what was happening. Carlisle had promised to let him know if there was any trouble or if he needed blood from Dean. Since part of Dean's bone marrow was in fact from Sam, Carlisle had though that Deans' blood could help clean Sam out faster, if necessary. But the request had never come.

Sam nodded, frowning as he slowly pulled to his feet and began pacing around the small area not taken up by the piano in his room. "I'm... okay." He ran a hand through his hair. "Emmett and I went hunting," he smiled slightly, reached a hand up, pinching the bridge of his nose with thumb and forefinger, eyes squeezing closed a moment, before he opened them, letting his hand fall. "Uh, so, what's new?"

"Other than I was scared shitless by some rabbit?" Dean rolled his eyes, glad no one had been around to hear his scream. "How's... you know, the blood sitch. You ah... missing Ruby?" He made a face, thinking of the unpleasant bitch.

Sam chuckled at Dean's rabbit scare. "Rabbit, huh? Maybe I'll have to remember that if I ever want to have fear sex with..." he stopped, ran a hand down his face, "Uh, never mind. Hm? Ruby? Yeah, miss her, like I miss being carved up like a Thanksgiving turkey." He rolled his eyes, "No, I don't miss her."

"Fear sex? Kinky," Dean grinned. "Good. About Ruby. I thought maybe you would, I mean you were with her a long time." He’d been used and abused by her. Just like those goddamned doctors, but only with a little more freedom. He lifted his shoulder to hold the cell to his phone as he opened his car door and got inside. "You playing any more concerts?"

"Yeah, I was with her a long time, but I was kinda out of it for the most part, so... As for her blood," he sighed, "I don’t need it anymore. My family was staying with me... in my tiny apartment." He chuckled, "you would have hated it. Wall to wall vampires. I didn't have the elbow room to get sad or upset about much. I think one tear would have filled the place to over flowing." He grinned at the image, then frowned. "Concerts? No. I, uh, I gave that up, kinda. I mean, it was more Ruby's thing than mine. I still play," he glanced at his piano, "but not for people. Just... me."

"That's too bad for people, they love your music." He'd never thought he would like piano music, but Sam's was special. It had some meaning for him. "Are they all gone?" He licked his lips, "Sam, maybe you should go home, with them."

He smiled,"Nah, I, uh, I have something I want to do in a couple days," _Valentines day_ , "I'll see them after."

"Oh. But you're really okay, no withdrawal?"

Sam smiled softly, "Mm, I have my moments, but..." he admitted to the mental rather than physical problems he sometimes had, "I'll survive. Harder than that to kill me," he chuckled softly.

"Hey, that's my line. Just... be careful. If you go to a bar and some sexy woman makes eyes at you, make sure they're not demon, witch, or _vamp_." Sam might have something to say about the latter. "If they offer you blood, answer's 'no'." He thought a little more on it. "I think we need to dip you in holy water, and hang all sorts of protective amulets on you." 

Sam laughed, "Yeah right, you just want me to get a tattoo like yours." he shook his head, "No way man, forget it. I'll keep an eye out for people with ulterior motives. But, uh, I didn't really plan on picking up anyone at a bar or getting picked up. See, I kinda already found someone, so..." he shrugged. "I'm not real sure if they're thinking the same way I am or not, but.. I guess, I'll find out soon enough. What about you? Got plans for Valentines?"

At first Dean thought Sam was talking about him, but then the mention of Valentine's distracted him. "Nah, I don't really do Valentines." His fingers curled around the steering wheel, knuckles whitening. "Unless you count getting drunk. I'm more of a St. Patrick's day kinda guy."

"St. Patrick's, huh? Complete with the green silk boxers too, I bet." Sam walked back over to his piano and sat down, elbows on his knees, facing away from the keys. "Tell you what, you wanted a piano, I'll get you a green one that matches your eyes, how's that?" he chuckled.

"You fucking kidding me? Can you see me with a piano strapped to the top of the car?" He laughed. "How'd you know about the boxers? And you know I only wear them when I wanna get lucky."

 

Sam rolled his eyes, but made a mental note to add _red_ silk boxers to his wardrobe for what he was wearing on Valentines. Then he could show Dean how it was suppose to be done. _Not_ green. "Only when you want to get lucky, huh? Does that mean I might see them sometime?" Sam bit his lip, not sure if he should have gone down that road, but if Dean didn't even want to flirt then Valentines was _really_ going to be a stab in the dark. 

 

"You looking to score, Sammy?" He cocked his head, wearing a smile. "I think you'd need to buy me a drink or two, first. I'm not _that_ easy." He wished he had a drink right now. "And I'd probably end up making you talk through sex, so you'd have to be ready for that." 

 

"You _are_ that easy, remember, I know you. And you always try to make me talk through sex, I'm used to it. Not that it makes it any easier, or I like it any more, but, I'm used to it. I mean... unless you don't want to..." he gave a small smirk, waiting to see how Dean was going to answer that.

"If I answered that, where would be the mystery?" He looked out the window. "Are you asking me out? You know I'm nowhere near Seattle."

 

"Yeah, I'm asking you out." Sam frowned, "where are you? Can you be here for a date... um, the day after Valentines?"

"Ah... yeah, ok." he'd been planning to go the opposite way, but what the hell. His heart was telling him to go for it, that he'd missed Sam enough, not only in the last few weeks but for a lifetime before that. "I'll be there. With my green shorts."

 

Sam grinned wide, "Good. Oh, and Dean? Be free for a few days after. If things go the way I want, you won't be going anywhere for a little while. See you then. Bye, Dean." With that Sam flipped the cell closed.

Dean looked at his phone. Sam's little threat there had him wondering. Hell, he was more than wondering, he wasn't sure he was going to get any sleep until the questions Sam raised were resolved. _Wont be going anywhere for a little while..._ One little phrase and his heart was already going. 

***

 

It was Valentines day and Sam dressed carefully to go meet with Dean who wouldn't be expecting him. He'd showered and gotten dressed in red silk boxers and a black suit, crisp white dress shirt underneath, even a silk black cummerbund and black bow tie. Cufflinks held the ends of his sleeves together, his hair was slicked back slightly, so that it was out of his face. His black dress shoes were polished to a high gloss shine. He looked in the mirror again for he hundredth time and frowned, fidgeting with the bow tie before he forced himself to leave it alone. If he messed it up after Alice had fixed it for him, she'd kill him.

 

His family was all there in his tiny apartment again, helping him get ready. Alice had a small bag packed for him, with everything inside that he had asked for. The candelabras, the tall white candles, the pillar candles, Dean's heart shaped tin of chocolate chip cookies, but the most important thing, he held in the pocket of his suit, next to his heart. She also had gotten him the rose petals and the cream colored silk sheets he had asked for, along with the single perfect long stem red rose.

 

With a sigh, Sam finally decided he was ready, it was now or never and he still had to set up the candles in Dean's motel room and change the sheets to the silk ones, sprinkle the rose petals and then try his hardest to relax and not jump out the window. Yeah... he could do this. He patted the pocket holding the small black velvet box and smiled. Yeah, it would be fine.

*

Dean arrived in Seattle a day early. Several times, he had the urge to pick up the phone and let Sam know, but each time his finger hovered over Sam's name in contacts, he changed his mind. For too long, it had been his 'tradition' to mope on Valentines day, why change things now? The thing of it was, sitting at an outdoor fast food restaurant on the boardwalk, having a beer and looking out at the water, he just couldn't bring himself to feel as miserable as he usually did on Valentines. He knew part of it was that he was gonna see Sam tomorrow, even though that scared the crap out of him. Where the hell had gotten the idea he could just 'date' Sam? After everything they'd been through in Forks, and then on the yacht? It was weird, but it almost felt like there were no 'in betweens' for them. 

Lifting the bottle to his lips he swallowed the beer. Did he want more than a date, though? Could he really do more? He'd been so damned sure when he walked off the yacht that no matter what, he wasn't gonna get close again, not gonna risk it. But if that was true, then what the hell was he doing dating Sam? Inviting Sam to date him? Why the hell couldn't he clamp down on the excitement bubbling low in his belly? It was just a date... just a date.

The lights aimed at the water lit up, leaving wavy streaks on the moving water. That was when Dean realized it had gotten dark. Setting his drink down, he tossed his money on the table and got up.

The boardwalk was filled with vendors selling arts and crafts, tee shirts, jams made out of odd combinations of chilli and mint and chocolate... someone shouted at him to try some shrimp and jalapeno jam... and flowers, there were lots of flowers. Couples held hands and strolled past, or fed each other. He averted his eyes. He wasn't a romantic Goddamnit. This was all crap... just a reason to sell cards and get people to go out. 

Angry at himself for the ache in his chest, he picked up some beer and headed for the nearby motel. Before he entered, he looked at the Seattle skyline and wondered where Sam had his place. Why was it a small apartment? Was he thinking about tomorrow, or was he slowly getting drunk. A vampire who got drunk... he shook his head and pushed the door open.

Using his closed fist, he hit the light switch. Nothing. Eyes suspiciously darting around he dark room, Dean dropped the package he'd been holding and reached for his gun. Stepping into the darkness, he blinked again, holding the gun steady as his eyes started to adjust.

 

Sam stood in the center of the room. Cocking his head to the side as he watched him draw the gun, Sam used his TK to slide the package Dean had set down near the door over, close the door... yeah, okay, so it slammed shut, behind the package. The lock turned and the chain latched. He remained silent, holding the red rose in front of him and behind his back, he held the red heart shaped tin filled with what was rumored to be the best chocolate chip cookies in the world.

Dean moved silently but quickly, feeling the presence and eventually seeing the silhouette in dark. Whoever it was, how had they slammed the door behind him? Gun poised, he suddenly recognize the tall figure, and if he doubted his eyes, his vampire's scent wafting toward him was confirmation enough. "Sam? What are you doing... I could'a ..."

The corners of Sam's lips lifted in a near smirk, but he quickly bit back the retort that Dean 'could'a nothing'. Instead his gaze remained focused and intent on Dean, even as every candle in the room lit at once, filling the room with their soft golden glow. Taking in a breath, Sam let it out slowly as he gave a crooked smile, holding out the single rose. "Happy Valentine's Day."

When the candles lit and Dean could see Sam, he almost dropped the gun. His gaze was transfixed on Sam, his breath catching. Sam was beautiful even when he wasn't dressed up, but something about him... only him... in a tux did things to Dean's insides. His gaze dropped the flower, then swept back up to meet Sam's eyes. A flower? He was really giving him a rose? For a second, he didn't know whether to laugh or cry.

Taking it carefully from Sam, he asked. "Didn't you say tomorrow?" 

 

Sam smiled a bit wider, dimples showing, "Yeah, but," he licked his lips, "you can't have a surprise when the other person already knows you're coming." He wrinkled his nose a little, "Kinda ruins it." Sam pulled his hand back once Dean had taken the rose, and suddenly remembered the tin behind his back. "Oh," he said as he pulled his arm from in back of him, "this too," he told him as he held tin out.

Dean's eyes darted around the room that had been changed from a regular motel room into some romantic scene out of a movie. Then Sammy was passing him another present and Dean took it, fingers brushing Sam's before he got it and opened it. The smell of chocolate chip cookies permeated the air. He broke off a small piece of a cookie and popped it in his mouth, a smile spreading over his face. "I haven't had these since ..."

No, he wasn't gonna talk about the bad times. He didn't wanna. Setting the presents down, he walked to Sam, put one hand on his cheek and kissed him. At first it was a soft, chaste 'thank you' kiss, but before he pulled away, he found himself kissing Sam for real, sliding his tongue inside Sam's mouth and exploring every corner. When he pulled back, he gave a shaky laugh. "Figured this is the part where the hero kisses the chick."

 

"I hope now that chocolate chip cookies have found their way back into your life, that you'll allow them to stay there." Sam paused, swallowed, looking intently into Dean's eyes, "It's a shame to waste such a heavenly and rare thing as a... cookie, like those." He blinked and looked away, licked his lips.

Did he mean? Yeah ... he had to mean it. Dean's head was spinning with thoughts, when Sam talked again.

 

Sam quirked a brow at Dean's 'chick' comment, "I haven't kissed you yet," he nodded, "when I do, you'll know." He smirked at him then, before turning slowly and walking toward the champagne he'd iced on the nightstand. "Care for a drink?" Sam asked over his shoulder.

"Yeah, I could use one." Then he noticed it was some fru fru bubbly, and just prevented himself from shaking his head. "Should I... change? Are we going somewhere?" he asked, a bit unsure, out his element and not in the middle of a con where he knew the rules.

 

Sam shook his head as he reached for one of the glasses, and started to pour. "Change? No." he turned and offered Dean the champagne flute. "But you are a tad over dressed." he added as he turned back to pour his own. 

 

"How am I overdressed, I'm in jeans, you're in..." He shifted his weight from one leg to the other, staring at Sam. "Is this... are you taking back _that_ Valentine's Day?"

Sam eyed Dean as he turned back around, drink in hand. "Nothing can undo that horror," he sighed, "but hopfully this one will be good enough to dull some of those memories." He smiled slightly, "Besides, I think you'd look good in red silk boxers." He took a sip of champagne, "It would be a shame to deprive me of that sight," he winked before taking another drink.

Dean didn't touch the drink just yet, frowning. "Sam, you trying to keep me off balance or... what are we doing here?" He'd come over a day early, and he was acting mysterious. "I don't understand. We're not going out, you're all dressed up and I'm not and... should I be worried about something?"

 

Sam smirked, "Off balance?" he gave a soft chuckle, "I like that." he nodded, taking another sip. "Does it bother you that I came a day early? Did you have other plans?" he tiltedhis head slightly to the side as he looked at Dean. "There's nothing to worry about I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable. I was just hoping that we could have a real Valentine's." He licked his lips, "I guess I should have asked, made sure you didn't want to be alone." He set his glass down, "I'm sorry."

"I didn't say that. No it's... It's really nice. I just, I guess I'm usually the one who makes plans... not used to being in the dark. Not sure what I should be expecting, or exactly what you're... you know... wanting." The heat in Sam's eyes, when he looked over, had Dean dragging his own away. 

 

Sam stepped up to Dean and reached up, hands cupping Dean's face, "Relax, one. Two, whatever feels right and three..." he glanced toward the tin and made a face, "I do not smell like those... just for the record." He smiled softly and leaned in, pressing his lips gently to Dean's, tongue darting out to lick across them before dipping inside, exploring, deeping the kiss.

He didn't know why he was so damned tense. He just was. But as Sam kissed him, some of his tension melted. Opening his mouth, he kissed back, arms slowly going around Sam's waist. A few more kisses, and needs that always burned out of control for Sam, started to awaken. Moaning, he slipped one leg between Sam's and started to walk him backwards, maneuvering him so the back of his knees hit a chair, then shoved him down. Before Sam said or did anything, he straddled his hips, bringing his mouth to Sam's throat. "You do smell like cookies and this..." he put his arms around Sam, raising his head to look into his eyes. "This feels right, but I don't have green boxers. Or red."

 

Sam gazed into the most beautiful jade eyes in the world and smiled, "No green, huh? Red either? Well, I guess it's a good thing that I do then." he leaned in, slanting his mouth over Dean's again, kissing him passionately, arms wrapping around him holding him close, hands on the center of Dean's back, pulling him closer. When their lips parted he was breathing heavier. "It is right, always right between us. Perfect," he glanced over at the flower and back to Dean, "like your rose. I had to hunt forever for that thing." _Acually Alice did, but that wasn't the point._

 

Sam's eyes began to darken as he looked at Dean, "I love you, never stopped." He shook his head, "You don't have to say it back. I just want you to know."

Dean's heart rammed against his chest. The look in Sam's eyes, the memory of things he'd seen when he'd been sifting through his mind as Sam fed on the yacht, they all slammed into him at once. He swallowed. "I know... I know that," he nodded, his heart aching when he'd though he didn't have one anymore. "Sometimes that's not enough to hold people together. Sometimes it just makes things more complicated, makes us hurt more," he said with all the conviction he could muster, even as his fingers bit into Sam's shoulders.

 

"And other times it's why we come back, why we fight for what we want, even when we're numbed and can't see our way through the fog. Getting a glimmer of that love, it's enough to light the way." Sam licked his lips, "I know you don't trust me and I know that you think I'm just, I don't know, _saying_ this, maybe," he shook his head, "but I'm not and you _can_ trust me, Dean. I was a fool. I would never make that mistake again... sometimes you just have to believe... just a little bit. Not a lot, just a little. You'd be surprised how much you could get in return."

Dean slid down over Sam's thighs, closer, so there was barely any room between them. He wanted to believe, so fucking bad. Wanted to let go of the past. "I get shot. _All the time._ I get cut, and nose bleeds. I fight things that are stronger, faster, smarter than me," he nodded. "What happens the next time you see that? I can't go through it again Sam, I swear I can't. And I can't worry that the next _crazy_ thing I do will drive you away." Leaning in, he kissed him, tongue delving past Sam's lips and teeth. He'd thought he wanted comfort, but he kissed Sam with an edge of desperation. Breaking it just as suddenly as he started. He was breathing hard, no surprise there, and staring into Sam's eyes for an answer. 

Sam's inky black eyes locked with Dean's. He nodded, jaw clenched. "Shot all the time, huh? Cut? I'll learn to dig out bullets. I can heal you, you'll heal. You're not glass. You can take it. Faster, smarter and stronger? Well, it's a good thing you'll have a vampire partner who happens to like research, one that they can't break even if they tried."

Dreams. God, he was speaking about the dreams they'd had... the dreams he'd given him before, of forever. A forever that hadn't come. Did Sam expect him to believe again, just like that?

 

"And you're _not_ like you used to be about things Dean," he nodded. "Ruby? You would have gone after her, no holds barred, you wouldn't have cared that she could twist your head off your shoulders or," he paused searching for the right words to say, "could have turned you into a newt. You'd have done it, but you didn't. You held back, you were cautious, careful. You planned it out. _That's_ all I ever wanted you to do. But I've changed too, I don't worry as much," he shrugged a shoulder, "well, I still worry, but not as much. I know that you won't break with the next strong wind," he nodded. "I know that now. I didn't _get_ that before. I was so concerned about losing you that you slipped right through my fingers, just like I told Jessamine." He paused there, eyes intent on Dean's as they seemed to darken even more. "I _won't_ let that happen again." His voice was deep, gruff, raw as he spoke, fingertips digging into Dean's back as he clutched him tighter.

There was some truth in what Sam said. They'd both changed, and Sam hadn't hovered when they were on the yacht. Hadn't acted like a parent at all. But that could have been Ruby's blood making him not care. As Dean's mind spun, he slid his hands up Sam's chest and tugged on his jacket, taking it off him when Sam leaned forward. His gaze dropped, sweeping down the broad expanse of chest to Sam's much narrower waist accentuated by the cummerbund. Dean's mouth went dry.

He started to run his hands up and down Sam's chest, eyes locked with Sam's now. "You're not the only one who numbed yourself. I... it hurt too much to feel, so I just _don't_ feel now, Sam. Not in my heart... I don' think I have one anymore." He dragged his hips against Sam's, closing his eyes at the electric heat between them. "But this... this never changed... not ever." He swept his hand up the side of Sam's neck, tunneled his fingers through his slicked hair, then curled his fingers and dragged him close. Lips burning, he fit his mouth over Sam's, groaning as he kissed him and brought his body closer. Tongue fucking him, fast, and slow, then fast again as he rubbed against him and felt him grow hard... so fucking hard. "This I can believe in... maybe this should be enough," he said, bringing his mouth down to Sam's throat, but still holding his vampire in place by his hair.

 

Sam licked his lips, stifling a groan as his hips thrust up against Dean's. "I know I hurt you, I know that." He gave a small curt nod, as much as he could with Dean still holding his hair, "but you forget, part of you is part of me," he gazed intently into Dean's eyes, black clashing with green, "I don't think you believe that _this_ is all you feel any more than I do."

 

"Shshsh," Dean closed his eyes to the pain... to the temptation, swallowing hard. He brought his mouth over Sam's again, brushing his lips as he spoke. "Let's not think so much. Past is past... gone. This..." he licked Sam's lip, his cock surging the instant Sam's mouth opened for him so damned sweetly. "This is what I want _now_." He sucked Sam's lower lip into his mouth, tasting... God, why was it when he was with Sam, every small movement, every taste, every scent was amplified? Like he was so tuned to him, it was almost like they were one.

And now his thoughts were betraying him too, goddamit. Furious with himself, Dean became the predator, the attacker, the aggressor, using his body to force Sam back against the chair, kissing him with almost brutal force. Sliding his free hand between them, he tried to open the tiny buttons on his shirt, mentally cursing as they refused to come undone. 

Sam groaned, thrusting his hip against Dean, his cock so damn hard, his teeth aching so, he had nearly forgotten how intense the feelings got with Dean when he was no longer numbed, when he was totally clean to feel, _everything_. Blood pounded in his temples and above all of it was the sweet Siren song of Dean's blood, his heartbeats that blared in Sam's brain, making him nearly mindless with need. A growl broke from his lips, as he pulled his head back, breaths panting out. "Rip it. I don't care. Just rip them." A small naughty smirk pulled at his lips, "Or bite them." He leaned back in, slanting his mouth over Dean's once more as his arms tightened round him possessively. In one fluid movement, Sam rose from the chair, picking Dean up with him, and walked them slowly over to the bed, lowering them both down onto the rose petal covered silk.

Sam's suggestions were reverberating in his head and he'd been about to take him up when he found himself scooped up like he weighed nothing, and dropped on the bed with Sam sprawled partly over him. So strong... God his vampire was so damned strong. Dean rolled them over, so he was on top, pinning Sam's wrists to the bed, just the way Sam used to do to him. "Don't move," he warned, slanting his mouth over Sam's and kissing him hard, then moving his mouth down. He gripped the end of the perfectly tied bow between his teeth and tugged until it came apart, then kissed the part of his throat that was now exposed.

Moving his face from side to side, he managed to get the material of Sam's snow white shirt between his teeth, near the button and tugged. A button popped off. He moved down, this time kissing Sam's chest around a button, sucking it, before tearing it off and moving down again. "Oh God... oh God Sam..." the feelings slamming through him as he moved lower were killing him. With each movement of his chest and chin, Dean's own waist was brushing over Sam's arousal, so fucking hard... hard for him. "What we do to each other," he croaked, sucking on a button right under Sam's belly button, moving his mouth so it pressed wetly against Sam.

 

Sam breaths panted out as he watched Dean though eyes dark as the abyss. He licked his lips, clenched his aching teeth before tearing his gaze away and looking upward for a moment as a groan left him. "Better hurry, there are some things that have never, and probably won't ever, change." Referring to how much Dean excited him beyond the point of any semblance of control. Sam's cock surged, at the feel of Dean's wet mouth on his stomach, he squeezed his eyes closed, his hands curling into tight fists, a low growl leaving him. "Dean..." his body arched, head thrown back as he bit his lip. 

"Right here." Releasing Sam's wrists, he tore Sam's shirt open, relieved he had no undershirt. His mouth pressed against Sam's skin, felt his abs tense and strain. "Right here," he repeated, hands going to Sam's pants and popping that button. The zipper was next, and when he lifted his head, he sucked his breath in. "You're wearing red silk... fuck... gotta see this," he said, tugging Sam's pants down, stripping them off his vampire, and standing next to the bed, looking down on him as he got rid of his own boots and shirt.

The flower petals were crushed under Sam's large body, but others framed him. His white shirt and black tie were messed and revealed his alabaster skin... so fucking perfect, like he'd been carved out of marble. Then the red silk shorts contrasting with the white shirt. "You have no idea how you look... what you make me feel," he told him. His heated gaze traveling up and down Sam's body as he unzipped and stepped out of his jeans, dropping them in a heap.

 

Sam shook his head as he looked up at _his_ human, "No more than you make me feel," he answered, voice deep, raw, totally fucked out and breathy. "Need you," he raised a hand, holding it out toward Dean, beckoning him forward, to come back to the bed, come back to him. Eyes filled with more raw need and hunger than ever, he watched his human, followed each movement, each small motion that Dean made, nothing went unnoticed by the vampire on the bed. "All for you, always for you."

Dean stilled. His pulse beat frantically under Sam's scrutiny, practically feeling the unspoken words ... the question. Hope and fear mixed, raging within him even as he took Sam's hand and climbed onto the bed and was drawn immediately into Sam's arms. Hungry, so hungry for Sam, he kissed and touched, moved against him with a desperation that spoke of months... years of loneliness... of need... of a love that was deeper than he could fathom. 

"Need you. Need you so damned bad," Dean muttered thickly, moving down Sam's body, kissing him voraciously. His fingers curled under the hem of the sexy red shorts and he started to pull them down, kissing every bit of skin he exposed. 

Sam nodded, making deep groan growling noises deep in his throat as his hands went to Dean's head, threading through his hair. Sam's hips arched up toward Dean as his head rolled on the pillow. He closed his eyes and tried to rein in some of the emotions, feelings, needs raging through him. For his efforts, the alarm clock radio came on, his TK going slightly out of control. The dial sped through the stations as the volume increased.

 

Sam's hands slid to Dean's shoulders as he licked his lips. "Need... Oh God... Dean... please..." his words a breathless rush. The dial finally stopped on the radio only to stop, of all things on Aerosmith's 'Angel'. The small dining table across the room instead lifting off the floor, hovering in the air. 

 

The rapid changes in music and the furniture lifting, the sounds of a few small items crashing down was like a shot of adrenalin to Dean. It sharpened his awareness, highlighted the intensity of the feelings between them. He'd always loved bringing Sam to the edge, knowing he could. Pulling Sam's shorts off, he curled his fingers around his already hard cock, sliding his palm up and down as he watched Sam's face... watched how he bit his lower lip, the way his arm muscles flexed and bunched as his fingers dug into Dean's shoulders. "Never saw anything more beautiful," he said, working him slowly, and bringing his tip close to his mouth.

 

Sam's neck arched as his hips thrust upward toward Dean, trying to get to his cock inside the heat of his mouth, the feel of his hot breaths on the tip making him writhe on the bed. "Remind me..." Sam bit his lip, "to buy you a mirror then." He squeezed his eyes closed, fingertips biting into Dean's shoulders, "Don't stop." The TV turned on, flickering through all the channels before rising upward into the air, the cord pulled taunt.

He wasn't stopping. Dean was gonna give Sam everything he had, no holds barred. There was no other way between them, never really had been. Moving his head up and down, he sucked Sam into the wet heat of his mouth, giving him the friction that he wanted, sucking harder, pressing his tongue into his shaft, taking him all the way down his throat and letting him fuck his mouth with each upward thrust of his hips.

Sam ran his tongue over his fangs, sucking in a breath before a low growl left him. He sat up suddenly, grabbing Dean and pulling him up, crushing their bodies together, slanting his lips against Dean's and kissing him roughly. He rolled them so he was on top now. Tearing his lips from Dean's Sam kissed a path down from his lips to his neck, pressed his tongue there against his jugular and groaned, hips thrusting against Dean, before he moved, kissing his way down, across Dean's chest, taking one small male nipple into his mouth and sucking hard before scrapping his teeth across the sensitive flesh, he repeated the act with it's twin before moving lower kissing and licking his way down Dean's abs, tongue darting into his belly button as he looked up at his face from under his brows. "Gonna kiss and lick every inch of you."

Dean gave a strangled cry as Sam's velvety soft mouth and hands roved possessively over him. It was like he was being branded... claimed all over again, and there wasn't a damned protest he could utter when it felt so fucking right. Flames licked his body, burning him up. He whimpered Sam's name, practically arching off the mattress as Sam made good on his promise.

By the time there wasn't an inch of flesh on him that remained untouched by Sam's mouth, Dean was thick, rock hard... dying... Desperate, he rolled Sam onto his back, and scooted down, stepping off the bed and grabbing Sam's knees at the same time and pulling him to the edge of the bed. He ran his hands up and down Sam's thighs, before pulling him once again, this time making him raise his legs up so that one hung over his shoulder. Pressing his overly sensitive cock against Sam's entrance, his gaze locked with his lover's. 

 

Sam watched Dean through lowered lids, his eyes dark and intent, filled with heat and longing, teeth aching, blood pounding in his temples. The song of Dean's blood and heartbeats drowning out Aerosmith in the background. He ran his tongue over his fangs, teasing himself, the feelings, the hunger, lust and mingled blood lust making his rock hard cock twitch, precum pearling at the tip. 

 

As his eyes met Dean's, his leg over Dean's shoulder, ass at the end of the bed, Sam licked his lips before catching the bottom one between rows of straight white teeth. His eyes slowly slid closed, hips rolling upward as Dean pushed into him, filling him, stretching him. God, how long had it been again? Sam pressed himself toward Dean, his neck and back arched into a complete arc with the top of his head the only part of his upper body that touched the bed as he thust against Dean's, cock, taking him deeper. A growled cry broke from him, his hot breaths panting out, hands fisting in the bed sheets and blanket in a white knuckled grasp.

"Right here, baby... right here," Dean answered each desperate moan, eyes clinging to his lover's form. The way Sam responded to his every touch, the way he writhed, and fought to get closer, the way he restrained all of that power ... all of that need... all that hunger so easy to read in his dark gaze. So damned hot... so fucking hot, it had Dean thrusting mindlessly into his lovers hot tight sheath, fighting to keep his eyes open. 

It was like the floodgates opened. Suddenly, they were both moving hard, so hard the headboard was damaging the wall. Dean didn't care, couldn't... all he wanted was the heat that Sam could give him. No... he wanted more... he wanted so much more. He could see Sam was on the edge, hurting... could see his need. Pulling him just a little closer, so there was no room between them, he reached up and put his wrist over Sam's mouth. The memory of him drinking from Ruby just like that pissed him off and had him pressing his wrist harder, insisting Sam take it, as his eyes burned with the heat of jealousy.

Sam's breaths panted out as he gazed up at Dean, his wrist pressed against his mouth drew Sam's attention, his gaze dropping to it a moment before darting back to Dean's face again. Then Dean was pressing harder, the feel of the blood running through the veins just below the surface of the skin on Dean's wrist against his lips making a deep groan sound in his throat. He released the sheets, hands grasping Dean's hand and arm, leaving a small area of his forearm open to his mouth, his gaze intent on Dean's. Sam's tongue darted out to lick along the artery that ran up his arm, a growl sounding deep in his throat. "Mine." the word tumbled from his lips without thought, a moment before his lips curled and Sam sank his fangs deep into Dean's wrist. Sam's body jerked as he thrust back against Dean just as blood filled his mouth, splashing over his tongue, down his throat. A small whimper leaving him as he swallowed mouthful after mouthful of Dean's blood. Sam groaned, eyes sliding upward into his head, his body thrusting back against Dean harder. _So good... so fucking perfect... mine, mine, mine... forever mine._

 _Yours. Only me. Not her._ Dean's immediate mental response was just as fierce, just as vehement as Sam's, only he knew his vampire couldn't hear him. _Mine_ With every hard thrust, he destroyed Ruby's image in his mind. Destroyed the image of his vampire drinking from her, enslaved by her, enthralled by her. _Mine... mine Goddamnit, mine._

Sam's eyes snapped open as Dean's voice sounded in his head, but he didn't think anything, didn't speak mentally back. Nearly blindsided by the words, the feelings behind them, the possessiveness, the fierceness. Not her...? For a split second Sam was confused before he realized. His gaze softened a moment as his heart swelled with love and he closed his eyes once more, arching and pressing his body back against Dean. Sucking harder at the wound on his arm, tongue licking, probing, lapping at it. _Always have been yours, Dean. Always._

Dean's eyes widened. His already labored breath catching. Sam had heard... he'd heard his mental thoughts. Now he could feel him, same as Dean could feel all of Sam's needs. He tried to block his mind, afraid of what Sam would see... the years of struggling with his feelings, of doubting that which had been real. There were times in his life he'd hated Sam, worse than Ruby. Cause hate, he could deal with. Love... pain from loss, that wasn't for him. 

He wasn't gonna think about that. All that mattered was right here and right now. Closing his eyes and throwing his head back, Dean started to concentrate on the storm raging with him, need so fucking strong it drove everything else out of his mind. He gripped Sam's hip and stopped, the wait between thrusts were such sweet agony. It made him curse, and then he fucked again, and stopped. He ignored Sam's attempts to make him go faster, fought both Sam's and his own needs, controlled them even as they threatened to burn out of control.

Sam was thrashing, holding Dean's arm to his mouth in an iron grip, fingertips digging into his flesh, growls and groans leaving him as his body twisted, rocked back against Dean's, arching and pushing back with all his might, only to have Dean still him, stop him, making him wait it out with him. Sam's dark gaze found Dean's green one, the look in them like an untamed predator that was starving, Sam's lip curled upward, revealing the tops of fangs that disappeared into the flesh of Dean's arm. _Can't. Need more. Need you. ALL of you._ Sam growled a warning loud and long, _MINE!_

That was all it took to push Dean. He changed the angle of his body slightly, and pulled Sam's leg off his shoulder so that his lover could lock his legs around his waist. Groaning, he lowered his weight over Sam and started to fuck him in earnest. Hard and fast, short and long strokes, no more waiting, no more stopping... just like a fast moving train... unstoppable. Sounds started to break from him. "Unh...unh... unh... l... Sam..." and still his lover stared at him, demanding an answer... as if his body wasn't giving it to him. "Yes. Yes Sam, want you." He thrust harder, "I need you... I..." his back arched as his balls drew up painfully tight against his body. "Want... _love_ you." The words were ripped out of him as he started to spasm, his cock buried deep inside Sam and filling him with his hot spunk.

It wasn't watching Dean come that pushed Sam over, though it very well could have, it was the words that had fallen from his lips just before he came, hot and hard into him. **'love you'** the words he never thought he'd hear from Dean again, no matter what Alice's visions said.

 

Sam's eyes rolled back as he arched, a deep groaned growl leaving him as his entire body tensed, balls drawing up tight, heat pooling, and then he was coming, hard and hot, on his stomach, his jizm smearing between them. _Oh God! Love you! Love you so much! Oh Fuck!_

 

Every item that had been hovering in the air, suddenly went crashing to the floor.

 

Sam lay there as after shocks rippled through his body, his mouth still latched firmly to Dean's arm, eyes on his lover, simply drinking in the sight of him.

Sliding his hand between their bodies, Dean covered his palm over Sam's slick cock, lightly rubbing up and down as Sam slowly wound down. _Okay... okay, I know you like my blood, but my mouth is getting jealous... could use some attention,_ Dean teased, rubbing his mouth against Sam's throat, breathing in his scent. "Want some chocolate chip... give it to me," he demanded, bringing his mouth closer with each pass, and wrinkling his nose at the tangy scent of his own blood.

Sam drew in a breath, eyes darting past Dean to his jacket, laying discarded and forgotten on the floor, before returning to his face. He had something else he needed to do, so stopping was a must, even though he didn't want to. Forcing himself, Sam drew back, dislodging his fangs and nicking his tongue as he did, then licking the wound with his bloodied tongue to close it. He lifted his head slightly then, his lips near Dean's as he gazed deep into his eyes for a moment, before slanting his mouth over Dean's, kissing him lovingly. The kiss passionate, but gentle, putting all the love Sam could into it, even as he used his TK to make his jacket come to him, settling on the bed beside them.

 

Sam nipped at Dean's bottom lip as the kiss ended, "I have one more thing for you," he told him softly, before tearing his gaze away and reaching for his jacket, hand dipping into the interior pocket. Sam pulled the small velvet box out, palming it, so Dean couldn't see what it was yet.

"Replacing something you broke?" Dean started to joke when he noticed Sam's serious expression.

 

He looked back at Dean, his free hand going to Dean's face, cupping his cheek, "I love you, always have loved you. You are my mate, my soul and the world to me." He licked his lips, biting the bottom one. "I..." He was getting nervous now, what if Dean said 'no'? What if this didn't go the way it was suppose to? What if he ruined what so far had been a perfect night? Sam's mouth opened, only to have him clamp it closed again. He exhaled nervously, looking away, then forced his gaze back to Dean as he raised his hand holding the small box, flicking it open with his thumb and turning it to show Dean, the platnium band inside. "Will you marry me?"

Eyes widening again, his expression one of surprise, Dean felt his heart tumble. His gaze went from Sam's face, to the ring, and back. "You're... you're asking me for _forever?_ " How many times had he told himself there was no such thing? How many dreams had he squelched when morning came and he explained to himself that had been an impossible dream?

 

Sam frowned slightly, before he nodded. "Forever. Eternity. That's exactly what I'm asking." He licked his lips before catching the bottom one between his teeth. "I - I know I'm not perfect and I'm a pain in the ass even, but I swear to do whatever I need to, to make you happy. I meant what I said to Jessamine, I would give you the moon and the stars if I could. I-" he paused, unsure what else he could say to convince Dean. Maybe he had made a mistake. Ruined the night. Maybe he shouldn't have asked so soon, Dean had _just_ said he loved him again. That's what it was, that's what was wrong, it was too soon. He'd ruined it, ruined everything. Oh God, he was an idiot. Sam closed his eyes, using an index finger to snap the box closed again as he swallowed hard.

Dean's gaze went to the closed box. He'd been trying to get his thoughts under control and then Sam was pulling it away. "You changed your mind?" he asked, his voice thick with emotions he'd held in check for so damned long. "You give a guy three seconds to decide?" Sitting up and reaching for the box, his fingers tangled with Sam's.

Sam opened his eyes and looked up at Dean, "I - I thought you didn't want..." he released the box, watching as Dean took it and rolling onto his side, raised up on an elbow. "There's an inscription inside the ring. Uh, it says, 'All my love and devotion', and then it's signed." He smiled slightly, "Well, it's sorta signed, I just had them put an 'S'. Do you like it? Do you want to? I mean, will you?... Marry me?" he licked his lips nervously.

"S for... sexy? Stamina? Succulent?" Yeah, he was procrastinating as he opened the box and played with the ring. He looked at Sam, then pushed the ring on, up to his first knuckle, and moved his hand close to Sam's. "Yes." The word didn't break him. And the world still spun. He choked, and gave a second "yes."

 

Sam was watching Dean closely, waiting, trying to be patient. But for a vampire, he wasn't, he realized in that moment, a very patient being. When Dean said yes, Sam's eyes widened, his dead heart sumersaulting in his chest. "Yes?" he asked, a smile spreading wide across his face, making his dimples show, the grooves deeper than ever. Pulling up with vampire speed, he wrapped his arms around Dean, nearly knocking him backward as he hugged him tightly in his arms, one hand moving over Dean's. Looking down at their hands, Sam slowly slid the ring down into place on Dean's finger, before looking back, gaze intent on Dean's a moment before he slanted his lips against Dean's, kissing him soft and slow, then more deeply.

 

Drawing back Sam was still smiling, "I thought we could go to Canada, get married up there. We could stay with Edward and Bella a couple days maybe, then I can take you anywhere you want to go. Rome, Italy, Paris, Egypt." he shook his head, "I don't care as long as we're together," he told him, then pulled back suddenly and reached for his jacket again and pulled out his cell, opening it and pushing the dial button.

"But--"

Sam glanced at Dean and held up a finger and pushed the speaker button.

 

"Well?" Came the answer on the other end.

 

"He said yes!!" Sam exclaimed into the phone.

 

There was the distinct sound of his brothers and sisters, mother and father all cheering on the other end of the phone.

They hadn't even talked about it for two minutes and Sam had his family on the phone. Dean wanted to be mad, but it was so fucking Sam, and so unlike Sam under the influence of Ruby, he couldn't be. "Ah... yeah, I said 'yes," he said a bit awkwardly, trying to think of something else to say when the motel door busted open.

He barely had time to pull the sheets up, when the room filled with grinning vampires. "Sam... SAM!" No... he couldn't believe this, not when they were or just had sex, not... "SAM!" He looked over at his lover. His partner. "Oh God... what have I done?" he groaned.

Alice bounded up onto the bed with them, hugging her brother, but not too close. She wrinkled her nose as she pulled back. "Ever heard of a wash cloth, Sam?" she looked at Dean, "Gained a _great_ family of vampires, that's what you've done. Now come here and gimme a hug." She waved him toward her, even as Emmett pounced on the foot of the bed.

 

Carlisle and Esme stood behind the others, arms around one another, smiling from Sam to Dean and back to Sam. "Congratualtions, son," Carlisle told Sam, then nodded to Dean, "Welcome to the family."

 

Sam looked over at Dean, wrapping an arm around him and leaning in. "They were waiting outside, it's not my fault," he whispered, not that the others couldn't hear him anyway.

 

Rosalie who was standing near the bed, leaned back on her high heels and peered at the two in the bed, and grinned. "Nice ass, Dean." she teased him, the sheet only covering his front and giving her a view of his back side sitting in the bed. She wrinkled her nose, "I've seen Sam's before so no real fun there," she waved a dismissive hand. Emmett cracked up laughing, falling backward onto the mattress.

Dean gritted his teeth and tried to grab more material, but it was mostly under him so it was hard. "You guys were listening... so not cool."

Jasper gave a pained look. "We didn't have to listen, I could feel it all. You need to give me warning before you get frisky."

"Yes, like that makes me feel much better. Sam,'personal space'... 'privacy'..." right, his vampire was way too giddy to remember his lectures or to lecture his family. Releasing his breath and realizing he wasn't gonna win this round, Dean said, "you know... we usually go more than a round."

Rosalie sighed, "Yeah, well, not this time you don't. You two need to get your asses to Canada, NOW! Before one or both of you screws this up too." She looked down her nose at the two of them, "Not that I don't trust you two, but I don't trust you two." She looked over at her sister, "Alice, you do the honors?"

 

Alice smirked and looked back at the boys, with vampire speed and strength, she pulled the sheet off of both of them at once, nearly stripping the bed as she and Emmett moved off.

"Whoa!" Butt naked, Dean couldn't argue... not a single word. With almost vampiric speed, he rushed into the bathroom, shouting about crazy vampires, and even Sam couldn't shut him up when he followed. He was still railing loudly when Sam kissed him, and gave him what he needed. Round two. And fuck if even the knowledge that Sam's family were right in the next room didn't stop Dean from enjoying it.

***

He couldn't believe it. They were driving to Canada in a goddamn caravan. Four cars traveling at high speeds, as if something was racing after them. He turned and muttered to Sam, "this feels like a shot gun wedding... are you pregnant or something?"

Sam looked over at him and quirked a brow. "Preg... are you crazy!? First off, vampires can't, and I don't care _what_ Van Helsing says, they can't _get_ pregnant and second, I am a male. Males cannot have babies, Dean. I don't care what the SUN tabloid tells you," he huffed and looked back out the window. "They're happy for us, that's all. What's so wrong with that?" he shrugged a shoulder. "Besides, Alice and Ros helped me with a lot of that back there." He looked back at Dean, "Contrary to popular belief, " he eyed him, "apparently. I am NOT _that_ much of a girl!"

"Hrmph." It was a doubtful hrmph, that had Dean grinning as he rolled the window down and rested his elbow out the window. "Pass me a cookie. Looks like it's quickly becoming a favorite again," he said, sliding his lover a look.

Just like old times. They joked and teased and baited each other, and it made the time pass so much faster. Dean hadn't smiled this much in forever. Almost on a whim, he called up Bobby and told him what was going on.

"Ah... no, I'm sure it's not another _phase_."

He made a face as the older hunter gave him an earful, then asked for the location of the wedding. After giving it to him, Dean cleared his throat. "Reason I didn't tell you is... well... you know ... Bobby... wedding party is _crawling with vamps._."

Dean winced and dropped the phone. "He hung up. I think it means he's coming."

Sam rolled his eyes and sighed, "I'll tell my family to be ready for a crazy old man wielding a machette," he muttered. "Not that it'll do him any good." He looked over at Dean and grinned mischievously, "Hey, wanna see Bobby have a heart attack? I could let him go toe to toe with my Dad."

"Sam..." He gave his vampire a look. "Only if you tell him to act like he's losing. Bobby's real sensitive."

Sam looked at Dean for a long moment, before he started laughing.

 

* * *

The Cullens had to know people because they hadn't had to wait on any paperwork. And now, they were walking out of city hall with matching rings, and holding hands. Dean glanced over his shoulder at all the Cullens, then gave a wicked grin. "I love all your bridesmaids, honey." 

Sam looked over his shoulder at his family then back at Dean, frowning. "Bridesmaids?" he huffed, "No wonder you never got married in the last ten years. You have no idea how it's done. YOU would have the bridesmaids, _I_ would have groomsmen." He eyed Dean thoughtfully as he tilted his head to the side, "Now _how_ would that work if you had married a woman? Both of you in dresses? I think yours should have been one of those off the shoulder types," he nodded, "You have good shoulders." Sam barely held back his laughter, though a small snort escaped.

Dean made a grumpy sound. "I'm not the one with baby soft hands, and lips," he looked over at Sam. "And I don't smell sweet all the time or..."

"Okay, enough," Bobby cut them off. "Next you'll be giving details we don't want to know."

"We like to know," Alice said with a smile.

Seeing every Cullen head shaking in agreement, Bobby exchanged looks with Dean.

"Yeah, Bobby, I'm sure you're right," he grinned as they reached the street and stopped in front of Sam's Hummer. 

Bobby gave him a hug, and Sam one, then he sort of shook hands with the Cullens, looking at them a bit suspiciously as he headed for his truck.

"Sam, you know there's no snuggling in a Hummer," Dean pointed out that impossibility. "Seriously, Impala's much better for _that sort of thing._ "

Ros shook her head. "That's not true Dean, the back seat comes out of it and you can fit nicely in there and..." she paused when Sam slugged her in the shoulder. "What? I was just gonna tell him how Emmett and I checked it out for you."

 

Sam hung his head smiling, "Yeah, I think you can skip it."

 

She shrugged as Alice walked up and stepped in front of Dean, she eyed him a few moments before lifting a perfect brow, "I think your sniffer is off, ' _brother_ ' dear," she said with a small smirk pulling at her lips, "Sam here doesn't smell sweet, he smells like the woods, earthy, like after a rain."

 

"No, he doesn't. He smells like lavendar." Jasper cut in.

 

"You're both wrong, he smells like leather in a new car." Emmett corrected.

 

Ros clicked her tongue, "Nope, wrong again, he smells like Saks."

 

Alice frowned at her sister, "Saks?"

 

"Yeah, you know, when you first walk in to Saks Fifth Ave., there's that smell that hits you," Ros nodded, "THATS Sam."

 

Sam rolled his eyes, "Can we just go? Please? Before you all start arguing about how my hands feel or the shape of my ass, or the color of my eyes."

 

"Soft, heart shaped and golden green." Alice answered with a smirk.

"How does she know that?" Dean demanded in a mock angry tone. "Alright let's get out of here before they start analyzing what I _stink_ like." He knew it was coming. "Bye," he grinned and allowed all the vampire's to get a piece of him. "Dr. Cullen," he gave the man a hug, and then Esme. Then started to head for the driver's seat.

 

"You are _not_ driving my hummer, Dean. Dad will take care of the Impala while we're gone on our honeymoon," he grinned and looked back at Alice who smiled at him.

 

"Dude! You're such a chick!" Emmett called out to him and Sam flipped him off, making Emmett laugh harder.

 

"You know, you never did say where you wanted to go." Sam told Dean as he looked back at him, ignoring his siblings' hoots and hollars.

"I don't like how he's looking at my car," Dean said seriously, his jaw jerking toward Emmett. "No one touches the car but Carlisle." Then he turned to Sam, "keys." He pushed him against the car, "I like to drive. Let me," he kissed him, then lifted his face up to lock gazes with Sam. 

 

Sam kept his gaze locked with Dean's. "Can _you_ drive down the road at eighty miles an hour and jerk off your husband without ever missing the time to shift gears?" Sam asked him quirking a brow as a smirk pulled at the corner of his lips.

His entire body hard at the image, Dean dociley walked to the passenger seat, hopped in and slammed the door shut. When too many seconds went by, he rolled the windows down. "Get in the car Sam." 

 

Sam grinned as he hugged the last of his siblings and his parents. Stepping back and walking around to the driver side of the hummer, he waved to them. Opening the door, he slid behind the wheel, closing the door behind him and smiling over at Dean. "So? I'm still waiting, where to? I was thinking maybe I could take you to Paris, whisper filthy French words to you as we stand in one of the lush gardens at midnight and make love under the moon..." he shrugged, "Or we could go to Egypt, try that desert thing we never got around to doing," he waggled his brows.

Dean blanched. "How about Vegas? They have Paris, and Egypt, and New York... they got it all, and you never have to leave the one city." _Please God, please, please, please... let him say 'yes'... let him not argue._

 

Sam quirked a brow as he looked at Dean, studying him for a moment before he tilted his head to the side. Well, that was interesting. His heart rate jumped out of nowhere. 

 

Sam didn't say anything, but returned his attention to driving, starting the truck and backing out. They drove in relative silence save for the radio as Sam wondered about Dean's odd heart rate fluxuation. Needless to say, there was no hand job action.

 

Parking at the airport, Sam turned off the hummer and turned in his seat, debating on asking Dean what was wrong, his gaze intent on his human's face, the hard set of his jaw, the way the muscle twitched. Something was wrong. And there was that heart rate again, rising up there out of the blue.

"This is NOT Vegas." Dean took a couple deep breaths. "Sam, you want me to drive?"

"No," Sam glanced out the window at the parking area, then back at Dean, "it's not Vegas. And no, I don't want you to drive. This is better than Vegas. I can take you to any of those places, all of them. It's not an issue, Dean. Stop worrying about money. It'll be fun. We can even join the mile high club," Sam grinned.

"NO!" He thought he was gonna hyperventilate. No way, not to save face, not even the promise of sex... he wasn't doing this. "I mean it, I'm not going. You wanna go... go." The thought of flying, it just made his palms sweaty. He grabbed the oh shit handle with one hand and the dashboard with the other. "I mean it."

 

Sam's eyes widened as he looked from one of Dean's hands to the other. Sam reached out, taking hold of Dean's hand on the dash board and pulling it into his own. "Dean, what is it? What's wrong? Are you... are you afraid?"

 

Wow... the guy dates, screws and marries _a vampire_ and isn't fazed, but a little hunk of metal that races through the sky scares the daylights out of him. Sam blinked and tried to see it from Dean's perspective. He licked his lips, "You, don't fly?" he shook his head, "ever?" he asked him.

"Not ever," he sagged against the chair.

 

Sam sighed, nodding as he reached for Dean's other hand, prying it loose from the 'oh shit' handle to hold in his own so that he was holding both of Dean's hands. "Okay, um... no flying. How about a train? Cruise ship?"

"Okay, yeah... sure. But 'no flying'," he repeated. "Don't... don't laugh," he warned, pulling his hands free and rubbing his palms on his thighs. "Everyone has a _thing._ "

 

Sam smirked and hung his head, nodding before pulling his head up. "Everyone?" he shook his head, "I don't have _a thing_ ," he frowned, "can't think of anything I'm afraid of. Oh, no wait! Clowns." he nodded, "Creepy little bastards," he gave a shudder, smiling over at Dean.

"Clowns? What kind of self respecting Vampire is afraid of clowns," Dean scoffed, grinning and putting the music on. "Drive, baby, I wanna see you shift _two_ gears at eighty miles an hour."

THE END (and if you made it this far, congrats. Have a look at a video made for this fic by Karakent80! https://drive.google.com/file/d/0B_WpiwF3e2SDZWI1ZGM3NzgtMWE3Yi00MDJhLTkyMDktNDRhY2I3ZmI5ZjM4/view?usp=sharing )


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